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WINN DASHED AWAY WITH TnE SrEED OF A DEER.” 



RAFTMATES 


A STORY OF THE GREAT RIVER 


BY 

/ 

KIRK MUNROE 

V I 

AUTHOR OF 

“DORYMATES” “ CAMPMATES ” “ CANOEMATES ” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 



NEW YORK AND LONDON 
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 

1903 






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Copyright, 1893, by Harper & Brothers. 


All right i reurved. 









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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Raft 1 

II. Winn Assumes a Responsibility 8 

III. A Mud-bespattered Arrival from California . . 16 

IV. Billy Brackett Starts Down the River .... 26 

V. How the Voyage was Begun 82 

VI. Mr. Gilder and his Rude Reception 40 

VII. A Gang of “ River-traders ” 48 

VIII. Disappearance of the Raft . . 67 

IX. Alone on the Island 63 

X. A Night of Strange Happenings 71 

XI. Billy Brackett’s Surprising Situation .... 80 

XII. The Trappers Trapped 89 

XIII. Winn’s Lonely Cruise 97 

XIV. A Peal of Girlish Laughter 106 

XV. “Cap’n Cod,” Sabella, and the “Whatnot” . .113 

XVI. Bim Makes an Enemy 121 

XVII. The Truth, but not the Whole Truth . . . .129 

XVIII. Following the Trail 137 

XIX. A Curious Complication 147 

XX. Bim Growls 166 

XXI. Every One Explains 166 

XXII. A “Mewel” Named “Reward” 173 

XXIII. Reward Runs Away with the Panorama . . .181 


VI 


Contents. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXIV. Winn Discovers his Long-lost Raft . . . .190 

XXV. The Raft and Show-boat Change Crews. . .198 

XXVI. A Disastrous Collision 207 

XXVII. Is this Our Raft or Not? 216 

XXVIII. The Rescue of Sabella 225 

XXIX. Bim Brings about a Joyful Meeting .... 234 

XXX. In Clod’s Cabin 243 

XXXI. Campmates turn Raftmates 252 

XXXII. The “ River-traders ” Attempt to Regain Pos- 
session 261 

XXXIII. Where is Bim? 269 

XXXIV. A Blaze on the River 277 

XXXV. Bim’s Heroism 286 

XXXVI. The Master of Moss Bank 295 

XXXVII. Bim’s Coon 303 

XXXVIII. The Great River and its Mischief 312 

XXXIX. Hurled Through the Crevasse and Wrecked . 322 

XL. A Meeting of Mates 332 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


WINN DASHED AWAY WITH THE SPEED OF 

A DEER ” 

“ WINN SECURED ONE END OF THE CABLE TO 
THAT PART OF THE BOOM RESTING 

AGAINST THE SNAG ” 

“ ‘ WHY, THE RAFT HAS GONE ! ’ EXCLAIMED 

ELTA ” '. 

“ ‘ HOLD ON, YOUNG MAN ! ONE AT A TIME 

IS ENOUGH 

“ A BROAD STREAM OF WHEAT RUSHED OUT 

ON DECK ” 

“ ‘ WATCH HIM, BIM !’ ” 

“‘WHO’S THERE?’ CRIED THE OLD MAN” . 
WINN’S INTRODUCTION TO SABELLA .... 
BILLY BRACKETT IS A FRIEND IN NEED . . 

“ WITH A PRODIGIOUS LEAP HE LANDED 
SQUARELY ON REWARD’S HEAD ”... 

THE RESCUE OF SABELLA 

“ THE NEXT INSTANT HE SPRANG TO HIS 


- vu 


Frontispiece. 



Facing p. 



20 t/ 


44 fj 


60 

04 / 
108 / 
134 
162 


188 ^ 
226 

224 


FEET WITH A CRY 


viii Illustrations. 


“ THE STRONG ARMS LIFTED HIM AS THEY 

WOULD A CHILD ” Facing p. 268 

“ LIKE YOUNG TIGERS THE BOYS TUGGED AT 

THE HEAVY SWEEPS ” “ 284 

“ THE LANTERNS OF THE WORKING GANG 
GLANCING HERE AND THERE LIKE FIRE- 
FLIES ” “ 320 

A REUNION OF “ MATES ” “ 340 


1 


RAFT MATES. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE RAFT. 

Although the Venture was by no means so large 
a raft as many that Winn Caspar had watched 
glide down the Mississippi, he considered it about 
the finest craft of that description ever put to- 
gether. He was also a little more proud of it 
than of anything else in the whole world. Of 
course he excepted his brave soldier father, who 
had gone to the war as a private, to come home 
when it was all over wearing a major’s uniform ; 
and his dear mother, who for four weary years 
had been both father and mother to him, and his 
sister Elta, who was not only the prettiest girl in 
the county, but, to Winn’s mind, the cleverest. 
But outside of his immediate family, the raft, the 
Venture, as his father had named it, was the 
object of the boy’s most sincere admiration and 
pride. Had he not helped build it ? Did he not 
l 


2 Raftmates : 

know every timber and plank and board in it ? 
Had he not assisted in loading it with enough 
bushels of wheat to feed an army? Was he not 
about to leave home for the first time in his life, 
to float away down the great river and out into 
the wide world on it ? Certainly he had, and did, 
and was. So no wonder he was proud of the raft, 
and impatient for the waters of the little river, 
on a bank of which the Caspar’s lived, to be 
high enough to float it, that they might make a 
start. 

Winn had never known any home but this one 
near the edge of the vast pine forests of Wiscon- 
sin. Here Major Caspar had brought his Hew 
England bride many years before. Here he had 
built up a mill business that was promising him 
a fortune in a few years more at the time when 
the war called him. When peace was declared, 
this business was wellnigh ruined, and the soldier 
must begin life again as a poor man. For many 
months he struggled, but made little head-way 
against adverse fortune. The mill turned out 
lumber fast enough, but there was no demand for 
it, or those who wanted it were too poor to pay 
its price. At length the Major decided upon a 
bold venture. The Caspar mill was but a short 
distance from the Mississippi. Far away down 
the great river were cities where money was 


3 


A Story of the Great River. 

plenty, and where lumber and farm products were 
in demand. There were not half enough steam- 
boats on the river, and freights were high ; but 
the vast waterway with its ceaseless current was 
free to all. Why should not he do as others had 
done and were constantly doing — raft his goods to 
a market ? It would take time, of course ; but a 
few months of the autumn and winter could be 
spared as well as not, and so it was finally decided 
that the venture should be undertaken. 

It was not to be a timber raft only. Major 
Caspar did not care to attempt the navigating of 
a huge affair, such as his entire stock of sawed 
material would have made, nor could he afford the 
expense of a large crew. Then, too, while ready 
money was scarce in his neighborhood, the prairie 
wheat crop of that season was unusually good. 
So he exchanged half his lumber for wheat, and 
devoted his leisure during the summer to the 
construction of a raft with the remainder. 

This raft contained the very choice of the mill’s 
output for that season — squared timbers, planks, 
and boards enough to load a ship. It was pro- 
vided with two long sweeps, or steering oars, at 
each end, with a roomy shanty for the accommo- 
dation of the crew, and with two other buildings 
for the stowing of cargo. The floors of these 
structures were raised a foot above the deck of the 


Jf. Raftmates : 

raft, and were made water-tight, so that when 
waves or swells from passing steamboats broke 
over the raft, their contents would not be injured. 
In front of the central building, or “ shanty,” was 
a bed of sand six feet square, enclosed by wooden 
sides, on which the camp-fires were to be built. 
Much of the cooking would also be done here. 
Besides this there was a small stove in the 
shanty ” for use during cold or wet weather. 

The “ shanty” had a door and three windows, 
and was in other ways made unusually comfort- 
able. The Major said that after four years of 
roughing it, he now meant to take his comfort 
wherever he could find it, even though it was only 
on a raft. So the Venture ’ s “ shanty ” was very 
different from the rude lean-to or shelter of 
rough boards, such as was to be seen on most of 
the timber rafts of the great river. Its interior 
was divided into two rooms, the after one of which 
was a tiny affair only six by ten feet. It was fur- 
nished with two bunks, one above the other, a 
table, two camp-chairs, and several shelves, on one 
of which were a dozen books of travel and history. 
This was the sleeping-room that Winn was to 
share with his father. 

A door from this opened into the main living- 
room of the “ shanty.” Here were bunks for six 
men, a dining-table, several benches, barrels, and 


5 


A Story of the Great River . 

boxes of provisions, and the galley, with its stove 
and ample supply of pots, pans, and dishes. The 
bunks were filled with fresh, sweet-smelling wheat 
straw, covered with heavy army blankets, and the 
whole affair was about the most comfortable 
“shanty” ever set up on a Mississippi timber raft. 
To Winn it seemed as though nothing could be 
more perfect or inviting, and he longed for the 
time when it should be his temporary home. 

For a whole month after the raft was finished, 
loaded, and ready to set forth on its uncertain 
voyage, it remained hard and fast aground where 
it was built. To Winn’s impatience it seemed as 
though high-water never would come. 

“ I don’t believe this old raft is ever going to 
float any more than the mill itself,” he remarked 
pettishly to his sister Elta one day in October, as 
they sat together on the Venture and watched the 
sluggish current of the little river. 

“ Father thinks it will,” answered Elta, quietly. 

“ Oh yes. Of course father thinks so ; but he 
may be mistaken as well as other folks. Now if 
I’d had the building of this craft, I would have 
floated all the material down to the mouth of the 
creek. Then everything would have been ready 
for a start as soon as she was finished.” 

“ How would you have loaded the wheat ?” de* 
manded Elta. 


6 Raftmates : 

“ Why, boated it down, of course.’’ 

“And so added largely to its cost,” answered 
the practical girl. “ You know, Winn, that it was 
ever so much cheaper to build the raft here than 
it would have been ’way down there, and, besides, 
father wasn’t ready to start when it was finished. 
I heard him tell mother that he didn’t care to get 
away before the 1st of November. Anyhow, 
father must understand his own business better 
than a sixteen-year-old boy, even if that boy’s 
name is Winn Caspar.” 

“ Oh, I never saw such a girl as you are !” ex- 
claimed Winn, impatiently. “You are always 
making objections to my plans, and telling me 
that I’m only a boy. You’d rather any time travel 
in a rut that some one else had made than mark 
out a track for yourself. For my part, I’d much 
rather think out my own plans and try new ways.” 

“ So do I, Winnie ; but — ” 

“ Oh, don’t call me ‘Winnie,’ whatever you do ! 
I’m as tired of pet names and baby talk as I am of 
waiting here for high-water that won’t ever come.” 

With this the petulant lad rose to his feet, and 
leaping ashore, disappeared among the trees of the 
river-bank, leaving Elta to gaze after him with a 
grieved expression, and a suspicion of tears in her 
brown eyes. 

In spite of this little scene, Winn Caspar was 


7 


A Story of the Great River. 

not an ill-tempered boy. He had not learned the 
beauty of self-control, and thus often spoke hastily, 
and without considering the feelings of others. 
He was also apt to think that if things were left 
to his management, he could improve upon almost 
any plan proposed or carried out by some one else. 
He had mingled but little with other boys, and as 
“ man of the family ” during his father’s four years 
of absence in the army, had conceived a false esti- 
mate of his own importance and ability. 

Absorbed by pressing business cares after re- 
suming the pursuits of a peaceful life, Major Cas- 
par had been slow to note the imperfections in his 
boy’s character. He was deeply grieved when his 
eyes were finally opened to them, and held many 
an earnest consultation with his wife concerning 
the son, who was at once the source of their great- 
est anxiety and the object of their fondest hopes. 


CHAPTER II. 


WINN ASSUMES A RESPONSIBILITY. 

It was during one of these conversations with 
the boy’s mother that Major Caspar decided to 
take Winn with him on his raft voyage down the 
Mississippi. 

“ If I find a good chance to place the boy in a 
first-class school in one of the large cities after the 
voyage is ended I shall do so,” said the Major. 
“ It is only fair, though, . that he should have a 
chance to see and learn something of the world 
first. After all, there is nothing equal to travel as 
an educator. I honestly believe that the war did 
more in four years towards educating this nation 
by stirring its people up and moving large bodies 
of them to sections remote from their homes than 
all our colleges have in fifty.” 

“But you mean that Winn shall go to college, 
of course ?” said Mrs. Caspar, a little anxiously. 

“If he wants to, and shows a real liking for 
study,” was the reply ; “ but not unless he does. 
College is by no means the only place where a boy 
can receive a liberal education. He may acquire 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 9 

just as good a one in practical life if he is 
thoroughly interested in what he is doing and has 
an ambition to excel. I believe Winn to be both 
ambitious and persevering ; but he is impulsive, 
easily influenced, and impatient of control. He 
has no idea of that implicit obedience to orders 
that is at* the foundation of success in civil life as 
well as in the army ; and, above all, he is possessed 
of such an inordinate self-conceit that if it is not 
speedily curbed by one or more severe lessons, it 
may lead him into serious trouble.” 

“ Oh, John!” expostulated the mother. “ Do 
you realize that you are saying these horrid things 
about our own boy — our Winn ?” 

“ Indeed I do, dear,” answered the Major, 
smiling ; “ and it is because he is our boy, whom 
I love better than myself, that I am analyzing his 
character so carefully. He has the making of a 
splendid fellow in him, together with certain 
traits that might easily prove his ruin.” 

“Well,” replied Mrs. Caspar, in a resigned tone, 
u perhaps it will do him good to go away and be 
alone with you for a while. It is very hard to 
realize, though, that my little Winn is sixteen years 
old and almost a man. But, John, you won’t let 
him run any risks, or get into any danger, will 
you ?” 

“ Not knowingly, my dear, you may rest as- 


10 Baftmates : 

sured,” answered the Major. But he smiled as he 
thought how impossible it was to keep boys from 
running risks and getting into all sorts of danger- 
ous positions. 

So it was decided that Winn should form one of 
the crew of the Venture whenever the raft should 
be ready to start on its long voyage ; and ever 
since learning this decision the boy had been in a 
fever of impatience to be off. So full was he of 
anticipations concerning the proposed journey that 
he could talk and think of nothing else. Thus, 
after a month of tiresome delay, he was in such an 
uncomfortable frame of mind that it was a positive 
trial to have him about the house. For this reason 
he was encouraged to spend much of his time 
aboard the raft, and was even allowed to eat and 
sleep there whenever he chose. At length he 
reached the point of almost quarrelling with his 
sister, whom he loved so dearly ; but he had hardly 
plunged into the woods, after leaving her on the 
raft, before he regretted his unkind words and 
heartily wished them unsaid. He hesitated and 
half turned back, but his “ pride,” as he would 
have called it, though it was really nothing but 
cowardice, was too strong to permit him to humble 
himself just yet. So, feeling very unhappy, he 
tramped moodily on through the woods, full of 
bitter thoughts, angry with himself and all the 


11 


A Story of the Great River . 

world. Yet if any one had asked him what it was 
all about, he could not have told. 

Winn took a long circuit through the silent 
forest, and by the time he again reached the river- 
bank, coming out just above the mill, he had 
walked himself tired, but into quite a cheerful 
frame of mind. The mill was shut down for the 
night, its workers had gone home, and not a sound 
broke the evening stillness. The boy sat on a pile 
of slabs for a few minutes, resting, and watching 
the glowing splendor of sunset as reflected in the 
waters of the stream at his feet. At length he 
started up and was about to go to the house, where, 
as he had decided, his very first act would be to 
ask Elta’s forgiveness. The house stood some dis- 
tance from the river-bank, and was hidden from it 
by the trees of a- young apple orchard. As Winn 
rose to his feet and cast a lingering glance at the 
wonderful beauty of the water, he noticed a 
familiar black object floating amid its splendor of 
crimsons and gold. 

“ I wonder how that log got out of the boom ?” 
he said, half aloud. “Why, there’s another — and 
another ! The boom must be broken.” 

Yes, the boom of logs, chained together end to 
end and stretched completely across the creek to 
hold in check the thousands of saw-logs that filled 
the stream farther than the eye could see, had 


12 Raftmates : 

parted near the opposite bank. The end thus loos- 
ened had swung down -stream a little way, and 
there caught on a snag formed of a huge, half- 
submerged root. It might hold on there indef- 
initely, or it might get loose at any moment, swing 
wide open, and set free the imprisoned wealth of 
logs behind it. As it was, they were beginning to 
slip through the narrow opening, and those that 
had attracted Winn’s attention were sliding down- 
stream as stealthily as so many escaped convicts. 

The boy’s first impulse was to run towards the 
house, calling his father and the mill-hands as he 
went. His second, and the one upon which he 
acted, was to mend the broken boom and capture 
the truant logs himself. “ There is no need of 
troubling father, and I can do it alone better than 
any number of those clumsy mill-hands,” he 
thought. “ Besides, there is no time to spare ; for 
if the boom once lets go of that snag, we shall lose 
half the logs behind it.” 

Thus thinking, Winn ran around the mill and 
sprang aboard the raft that lay just below it. 
Glancing about for a stout rope, his eye lighted on 
the line by which the raft was made fast to a tree. 
“The very thing!” he exclaimed. “While it’s 
aground here the raft doesn’t need a cable any more 
than I need a check-rein, and I told father so. He 
said there wasn’t any harm in taking a precaution, 


13 


A Story of the Great River. 

and that the water might rise unexpectedly. As if 
there was a chance of it ! There hasn’t been any 
rain for two months, and isn’t likely to be any for 
another yet to come.” 

While these thoughts were spinning through the 
boy’s brain, he was casting loose the cable at both 
ends and stowing it in his own little dugout that 
was moored to the outer side of the raft. Then 
with strong deep strokes he paddled swiftly up- 
stream towards the broken boom. After fifteen 
minutes of hard work he had secured one end of 
the cable to that part of the boom resting against 
the snag, carried the other to and around a tree on 
the bank, back again to the boom, and then to the 
inshore end of the broken chain. Thus he not 
only secured the boom against opening any wider, 
but closed the exit already made. 

“ That’s as good a job as any of them could have 
done,” he remarked to himself, regarding his work 
through the gathering gloom with great satisfac- 
tion. “ Now for the fellows that got away.” 

It was a much harder task to capture and tow 
back those three truant logs than it had been to re- 
pair the boom. It was such hard work, and the dark* 
ness added so much to its difficulties, that almost 
any other boy would have given it up in despair, and 
allowed the three logs to escape. But Winn Caspar 
was not inclined to give up anything he had once 


lJf. Raftmates : 

undertaken. Having determined to do a certain 
thing, he would stick to it “ like a dog to a root,” 
as one of the mill-hands had said of him. So those 
logs had to go back inside of that boom, because 
Winn had made up his mind that they should ; 
but they went so reluctantly, and gave him so 
much trouble, that it was long after dark and some 
hours past supper-time before the job was com- 
pleted. 

When Winn at length returned to the raft he 
was wet, tired, and hungry, though very proud of 
his accomplished task. He was shivering too, now 
that his violent exertions were ended, for the sky 
had become overcast, and a chill wind was moan 
ing through the pine-trees. 

“ I wonder if I can’t find something to eat 
here?” he said to himself. “Pm good and hungry, 
that’s a fact, and they must have had supper up at 
the house long ago.” Entering the “ shanty,” and 
feeling carefully about, the boy at length found 
matches and lighted a lamp. 

Hello ! There was plenty to eat ; in fact, there 
was a regular spread at one end of the table, with 
plate, cup and saucer, knife, fork, and napkin, all 
neatly arranged as though he were expected. 
“ What does it mean?” thought Winn; and then 
his eye fell on a bit of folded paper lying in the 
plate. It was a note which read as follows : 


WINN SECURED ONE END OF THE CABLE TO THAT PART OF THE BOOM RESTING AGAINST THE 



















15 


A Story of the Great River . 

“Dear Brother, — As you didn’t come home 
to supper, I thought perhaps you were going to 
spend the night on the raft, and so brought yours 
down here. You can heat the tea on the stove. 
I’m awfully sorry I said anything to make you 
feel badly. Please forget it, and forgive your lov- 
ing sister, Elta.” 

“ Bless her dear heart !” cried the boy. “ She is 
the best sister in the world! The idea of her ask- 
ing my forgiveness, when it is I who should ask 
hers. And I will ask it, too, the very minute I see 
her ; for I shall never be happy until we have 
kissed and made up, as we used to say when we 
were young ones. I guess, though, I’ll eat the 
supper she has brought me first. And that’s a 
good idea about heating the tea, too. I can get 
dry by the stove at the same time. I’ll have a 
chance to see Elta before bedtime, and she’d feel 
badly if I didn’t eat her supper anyway.” 

All of which goes to show how very little we 
know of what even the immediate future may 
bring forth, and that if we put off for a single 
hour doing that which ought to be done at once, 
what a likelihood" there is that we may never have 
a chance to do it. 


CHAPTER III. 


A MUD-BESPATTERED ARRIVAL FROM CALIFORNIA. 

Acting upon the suggestion contained in Elta’s 
note, Winn lighted a fire in the galley stove, and 
was soon enjoying its cheery warmth. When the 
tea was heated, he ate heartily of the supper so 
thoughtfully provided by the dear girl, and his 
heart grew very tender as he thought of her and 
of her unwearying love for him. “ I ought to go 
and find her this very minute,” he said to him- 
self ; “ but I must get dry first, and there probably 
isn’t any fire up at the house. 

To while away the few minutes that he intended 
remaining on the raft, Winn got one of the books 
of exploration from a shelf in the little after-room, 
and was quickly buried in the heart of an African 
forest. Completely lost to his surroundings, and 
absorbed in tales of the wild beasts and wilder men 
of the Dark Continent, the boy read on and on 
until the failing light warned him that his lamp 
was about to go out for want of oil. 

He yawned as he finally closed the book. “ My ! 
how sleepy I am, and how late it must, be,” he 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 17 

said. “How the wind howls, too! It sounds as 
if we were going to have a storm. I only hope it 
will bring plenty of rain and high-water. Then 
good-bye to home, and hurrah for the great river !” 

By this chain of thought Winn was again re- 
minded of Elta, and of the forgiveness he had 
meant to secure from her that evening. “It is 
too late now, though,” he said to himself. “ She 
must have gone to bed long ago, and I guess I 
might as well do the same; but I’ll see her the 
very first thing in the morning.” 

With this the tired boy blew out the expiring 
flame of his lamp, and tumbled into his bunk, 
where in another minute he was as sound asleep 
as ever in his life. 

In the mean time the high-water for which he 
hoped so earnestly was much nearer at hand than 
either he or any one else supposed. The storm 
now howling through the pines had been raging for 
hours about the head-waters of the creek, and the 
deluge of rain by which it was accompanied was 
sweeping steadily down-stream towards the great 
river. Even as Winn sat by the stove reading, the 
first of the swelling waters began to rise along the 
sides of the raft, and by the time the storm broke 
overhead the Venture was very nearly afloat. 

Although Winn slept too soundly to be dis- 
turbed by either wind or rain, the storm awoke 
2 


13 


Eaftmates : 

Major Caspar, who listened for some time to this 
announcement that the hour for setting forth on 
his long-projected journey was at hand. He had 
no anxiety for the safety of the raft, for he re- 
membered the stout cable by which he had secured 
it, and congratulated himself upon the precaution 
thus taken. “ Besides, Winn is aboard,’’ he re- 
flected, “and he is almost certain to rouse us all 
with the joyful news the minute he finds that the 
raft is afloat.” Thus reassuring himself, the 
Major turned over and went comfortably to sleep. 

Elta knew nothing of the storm until morning, 
but hearing the rain the moment she awoke, she too 
recognized it as the signal for the Venture's speedy 
departure. From her window she had heretofore 
been able to see one corner of the raft; but now, 
peering out through the driving rain that caused 
the forest depths to appear blue and dim, she could 
not discover it. With a slight feeling of uneasi- 
ness, she hastily dressed, and went to Winn’s door. 
There was no answer to her knock. She peeped in. 
Winn was not there, nor had the bed been occupied. 

“ He did spend the night on the raft, then, and 
so of course it is all right,” thought the girl, greatly 
relieved at this discovery. “ The Venture must be 
afloat, though. I wonder if father knows it?” 

Just then Major Caspar appeared, evidently 
prepared to face the storm. 


19 


A Story of the Great River. 

“Well, little daughter,” he said, “ high - water 
has come at last, and the time of our departure is 
at hand. I am going down to see what Winn 
thinks of it.” 

“ Oh, can’t I go with you, papa ? I should dearly 
love to !” cried Elta. 

“ Well, I don’t know,” hesitated the Major. “ I 
suppose you might if you were rigged for it.” 

This permission was sufficient, and the active 
girl bounded away full of glee at the prospect of a 
battle with the storm, and of surprising Winn on 
the raft. Three minutes later she reappeared, clad 
in rubber boots and a water-proof cloak, the hood 
of which, drawn over her head, framed her face in 
the most bewitching manner. 

The Major attempted to protect her still further 
with a large umbrella ; but they had hardly left the 
house before a savage gust swooped down and glee- 
fully rendered it useless by turning it inside out. 
Casting the umbrella aside, the Major clasped Elta’s 
hand firmly in his. Then with bowed heads the 
two pushed steadily on towards the river- bank, 
while the wind scattered bits of their merry laugh- 
ter far and wide. 

It took them but a few minutes to reach the 
little stream, when their laughter was suddenly 
silenced. There was the place where the Venture 
had been put together, there was the tree to which 


20 Raftmates : 

it had been so securely moored ; but the raft that 
had grown into being and become a familiar sight 
at that point no longer occupied it, nor was it 
anywhere to be seen. Only a flood of turbid 
waters, fully two feet higher than they had been 
the evening before, swept over the spot, and 
seemed to beckon mockingly towards the great 
river. 

“ Why, the raft has gone !” exclaimed Elta, in 
a dismayed voice. 

“ It certainly has,” answered the Major, grimly ; 
“ and as it cannot possibly have floated up-stream, 
it must have gone towards the Mississippi. I only 
hope that Winn managed in some way to check 
and hold it before it reached the big water ; other- 
wise we may have a merry hunt for it.” 

While he spoke they had been hurrying to a 
point a short distance down-stream, around which 
the creek made a bend. From here they could 
command a view of half a mile of its course, and 
somewhere along this stretch of water they hoped 
to see the raft safely moored. They were, how- 
ever, doomed to disappointment ; for as far as the 
eye could see there was no sign of the missing 
craft. Full of conjectures and forebodings of evil 
they reluctantly turned back towards the house. 

The mill-hands, some of whom were to have 
formed the crew of the Venture, had already dis- 






% 


N 


n 


A Story of the Great “River . 

covered that it was gone. Now they were gathered 
at the house awaiting the Major’s orders, and eager- 
ly discussing the situation. 

Mrs. Caspar, full of anxiety, met her husband 
and daughter at the open door, where she stood, re- 
gardless of the driving rain. 

“Oh, John !” she cried, “ where is Winn ? What 
has become of the raft ? Do you think anything 
can have happened to him ?” 

“Certainly not,” answered the Major, reassur- 
ingly. “ Nothing serious can have befallen the 
boy on board a craft like that. As to his where- 
abouts, I propose to go down to the mouth of the 
creek at once and discover them. That is, just as 
soon as you can give me a cup of coffee and a bite 
of breakfast, for it would be foolish to start off 
without those. But the quicker we can get ready 
the better. I shall go in the skiff, and take Halma 
and Jan with me.” 

Nothing so allays anxiety as the necessity for 
immediate action, especially when such action is 
directed towards removing the cause for alarm. 
So Mrs. Caspar and Elta, in flying about to prepare 
breakfast for the rescuing party, almost worked 
themselves into a state of hopeful cheerfulness. 
It was only after the meal had been hastily eaten, 
and the Major with his stalwart Swedes had de- 
parted, that a reaction came, and the anxious fears 


22 Bqftmates : 

reasserted themselves. For hours they could do 
nothing but discuss the situation, and watch for 
some one to come with news. Several times dur- 
ing the morning Elta put on her water-proof and 
went down to the mill. There she would gaze with 
troubled eyes at the ever-rising waters, until re- 
minded that her mother needed comforting, when 
she would return to the house. 

On one of these occasions the girl was surprised 
to see a saddle-horse, bearing evidences of a hard 
journey, standing at the hitching -post near the 
front door. But this first surprise was as nothing 
to the amazement with which she beheld her moth- 
er clasped in the arms of a strange } T oung man who 
was so bespattered with mud that his features were 
hardly recognizable. Mrs. Caspar was laughing 
and crying at the same time, while both she and 
the young man were talking at once. Near them, 
and regarding this tableau with the utmost grav- 
ity, was a powerful -looking bull -dog, who would 
evidently be pure white when washed. 

For a full minute Elta stood in the doorway 
gazing wonderingly at this strange scene. Then 
her mother caught sight of the girl’s wide-eyed 
bewilderment, and burst into a fit of laughter that 
was almost hysterical. 

“ It’s your uncle William !” she cried, as soon 
as she could command her voice. “ My little 


A Story of the Great River. 23 

brother Billy, whom I haven’t seen for twelve 
years, and he has just come from California. Give 
him a kiss, dear, and tell him how very glad we 
are to see him.” 

Then Elta was in turn embraced by the mud- 
bespattered young man, who gravely announced 
that he should never have recognized her. 

“No wonder, for she was only a baby when you 
last saw her !” exclaimed Mrs. Caspar ; “ and I’m 
sure I should never have recognized you but for 
your voice. I don’t know how you look even now, 
and I sha’n’t until you wash your face.” 

“ What’s the matter with my face ? Is it dirty?” 
asked the young man. 

For answer Mrs. Caspar led him in front of a 
mirror. 

“ Well, I should say it was dirty ! In fact, dirty 
is no name at all for it !” he laughed. “ I believe 
I look about as bad as Binney Gibbs* did when 
he covered himself with ‘mud and glory’ at the 
same time, or rather when his mule did it for 
him.” 

“ Who is Binney Gibbs ?” asked both Mrs. Cas- 
par and Elta. 

“ Binney ? Why, he is a young fellow, about 
Winn’s age, who went across the plains with me 


See Campmates, by the same Author. 


%Jt Baftmates : A Story of the Great Biver. 

a year ago. By-the-way, where is Winn ? I want 
to see the boy. And where is the Major ?” 

Then, as Mrs. Caspar explained the absence of 
her husband and son, all her anxieties returned, so 
that before she finished her face again wore a very 
sober and troubled expression. 

“So that is the situation, is it?” remarked the 
new-comer, reflectively. “ I see that Winn is not 
behind his age in getting into scrapes. He reminds 
me of another young fellow who went campmates 
with me on the plains, Glen Matherson — no, Eddy. 
No; come to think of it, his name is Elting. Well, 
any way, he had just such a habit .of getting into 
all sorts of messes; but he always came out of 
each one bright and smiling, right side up with 
care, and ready for the next.” 

“ He had names enough, whoever he was,” said 
Elta, a little coldly ; for it seemed to her that this 
flippant young uncle was rather inclined to dis- 
parage her own dear brother. “ Yes, he certainly 
had names to spare ; but if he was half as well 
able to take care of himself as our Winn is, no one 
ever had an excuse for worrying about him.” 

“ No, indeed !” broke in the young man, eagerly ; 
“ but I tell you he was — Why, you just ought to 
have seen him when — ” 

“ Here comes father !” cried Elta, joyfully, run- 
ning to throw open the door as she spoke. 


CHAPTER IV. 


iSILLY BRACKETT STARTS DOWN THE RIVER. 

It needed but a glance at Major Caspar’s face, as, 
dripping and weary, he entered the house, to show 
that his search for the raft had been fruitless. His 
wife’s mother-instinct translated his expression at 
once, and the quick tears started to her eyes as she 
exclaimed, 

“ My boy ! What has happened to him ?” 

“Nothing serious, you may rest assured, my dear,” 
replied the Major. “ I have not seen him ; but I 
have heard of the raft, and there is no question as 
to its safety. We reached the mouth of the creek 
without discovering a trace of it. Then we went 
down the river as far as the Elbow, where we 
waited in the slack-water to hail up-bound steam- 
boats. The first had seen nothing of the raft ; but 
the second, one of the ‘Diamond Jo’ boats, reported 
that they had seen such a raft — one with three 
shanties on it — at daybreak, in the ‘ Slant Cross- 
ing,’ ten miles below. If I could have got a down- 
river boat I should have boarded her and gone in 
pursuit, sending the men back to tell you what 


26 Raftmates : 

I had done. As we were unable to hail the only 
one that passed, I gave it up and came back to 
report progress.” 

“ Oh, I am so glad you did !” cried Mrs. Caspar. 

“ So am I,” said the young stranger, speaking 
for the first time since the Major’s entrance. The 
latter had glanced curiously at him once or twice 
while talking to his wife, but without a gleam of 
recognition. Now, as he looked inquiringly at him 
again, Mrs. Caspar exclaimed : 

“Why, John, don’t you know him? It’s Will- 
iam — my own brother William, just come from 
California.” 

“ So it is,” replied the Major, giving the young 
man a hearty hand -shake — “so it is, William 
Brackett himself. But, my dear fellow, I must con- 
fess I was so far from recognizing you that I 
thought your name was — ” 

“ ‘ Mud ’ I reckon,” interrupted the other, laugh- 
ing; “and so it will be before long, if I don’t 
get a chance to clean up. But, Major, by the 
time both of us are wrung out and dried, and sister 
has looked up some dinner, I’ll be ready to unfold 
a plan that will make things look as bright for you 
and Winn and the rest of us as the sun that’s 
breaking away the clouds is going to make the 
sky directly.” 

Mrs. Caspar’s brother William, “ Billy Brackett,” 


£7 


A Story of the Great River. 

as all his friends called him, was a young civil en- 
gineer of more than usual ability. He had already 
gained a larger stock of experience and seen more 
of his own country than most men of his age, 
which was about twenty-six. From government 
work in the East and on the lower Mississippi he 
had gone to the Kansas Pacific Railway, been de- 
tailed to accompany an exploring party across the 
plains, and, after spending some time on the Pacific 
coast, had just returned to the Mississippi Yalley — 
out of a job, to be sure, but with the certainty of 
obtaining one whenever he should want it. From 
the moment of leaving San Francisco he had in- 
tended making the Caspars a visit, and had directed 
his journey towards their home. In Chicago he 
had run across an engineering friend named Ho- 
bart, who was at that moment regretting the press- 
ure of business that forbade his trying for what 
promised to be a most profitable contract. It was 
one for furnishing all the bridge timber to be used 
in the construction of a new railway through Wis- 
consin. The bids were to be opened in Madison 
two days later. Acting upon the impulse of the 
moment, Billy Brackett hastened to that city and 
tendered a bid for the contract, which, to his sur- 
prise, was accepted. 

In doing this the young engineer had counted 
upon the assistance of his brother-in-law, from 


$8 Raftmates : 

whose mill he expected to obtain the timber he 
had thus contracted to furnish. As the work must 
be begun immediately, he hurried on to the Major’s 
house with an offer of partnership in this promis- 
ing undertaking, and arrived as we have seen. 

“ It’s a big thing Major,” the young man said in 
conclusion, after explaining these details at the 
dinner-table ; “ and it’s not only a big thing in it- 
self, but it will lead to other contracts equally 
good.” 

“ I should like nothing better than to join you in 
such an enterprise Billy,” replied the Major ; “ but 
I don’t see how I can go into it just now, with this 
affair of Winn and the raft on my hands. You say 
the work must be begun at once ?” 

“ Yes. It really should be started this very day, 
and it can, if you’ll agree to the rest of my plan. 
You see, I’ve only told you the half I thought out 
before getting here. Since then I have added as 
much more, which is something like this : Sup- 
pose you and I change places. You take my horse 
and go to Madison in the interests of the con- 
tract, while Bim and I will take your skiff and 
start down the river in the interests of Winn and 
the raft. You know a heap more about getting 
out bridge timber than I do, while I expect I 
know more about river rafting than you do. Not 
that I’m anything of a raftsman,” he added, mod- 


A Story of the Great River. 29 

estly, “ but I picked up a good bit of knowledge 
concerning the river while on that government job 
down in Arkansas. If you’ll only give me the 
chance, I’ll guarantee to find the raft and navigate 
it to any port you may choose to name — Dubuque, 
St. Louis, Cairo, New Orleans, or even across the 
briny — with such a chap as I know your Winn 
must be for a mate. When we reach our destina- 
tion we can telegraph for you, and you can arrange 
the sale of the ship and cargo yourself. As for 
me, I’ve had so much of dry land lately that 
I’m just longing for a home on the rolling deep, 
the life of a sailor free, and all that sort of 
thing. What do you say? Isn’t my scheme a 
good one?” 

“I declare I believe it is !” exclaimed the Major, 
who had caught a share of his young kinsman’s 
enthusiasm, and whose face had visibly brightened 
during the unfolding of his plans. “Not only 
that, but I believe your companionship with Winn 
on this river trip, and your example, will be infi- 
nitely better for him than mine. I have noticed 
that young people are much more apt to be in- 
fluenced by those only a few years older than 
themselves than they are by persons whose ideas 
they may regard as antiquated or old-fogyish.” 

“ Oh, papa, how can you say so?” cried Elta, 
springing up and throwing her arms about his 


SO Baftmates : 

neck. “ How can you say that you could ever be 
an old fogy?” 

“Perhaps Pm not, dear, to you,” answered the 
Major, smiling at his daughter’s impetuosity ; “but 
to young fellows mingling with the world for the 
first time nothing pertaining to the past seems of 
any value as compared with the present or imme- 
diate future. Consequently a companion who is 
near enough of an age to sympathize with the pur- 
suits and feelings of such a one can influence him 
more strongly than a person whose thoughts are 
oftener with the past than with the future.” 

“ I can’t bear to hear you talk so, husband,” said 
Mrs. Caspar. “ As if our W inn wouldn’t be more 
readily influenced by his own father and mother 
than by any one else in the world ! At the same 
time, I think William’s plan well worth considering, 
for I have hated the idea of that raft trip for you. 
I have dreaded being left alone here with only 
Elta, too, though I wouldn’t say so when I thought 
there wasn’t anything else to be done.” 

With this unanimous acceptance of the young 
engineer’s plan, it took but a short time to arrange 
its details, and before dark everything was settled. 
The Major was to leave for Madison the next morn- 
ing, while Billy Brackett was to start down the 
creek that very evening, so as to be ready at day- 
light to begin his search for the missing raft at the 


31 


A Story of the Great River. 

point where it had been last reported. By his own 
desire he was to go alone in the skiff, except for 
the companionship of his trusty Bim, who made a 
point of accompanying his master everywhere. 
The young man was provided with an open letter 
from Major Caspar, giving him full authority to 
take charge of the raft and do with it as he saw fit. 

Both Mrs. Caspar andElta wrote notes to Winn, 
and gave them to Billy Brackett to deliver. The 
major also wrote a line of introduction to an old 
soldier who had been his most devoted follower 
during the war. He was now living with a mar- 
ried niece near Dubuque, Iowa, and might possibly 
prove of assistance during the search for the raft. 

Thus equipped, provided with a stock of provi- 
sions, and a minute description of both the raft 
and of Winn, whom he did not hope to recognize, 
the young engineer and his four-footed companion 
set forth soon after supper on their search for the 
missing boy. An hour later they too were being 
swept southward by the resistless current of the 
great river. 


CHAPTER V. 


HOW THE VOYAGE WAS BEGUN. 

When Winn Caspar turned into his comfort- 
able bunk aboard the raft on the night of the 
storm, it never once occurred to him that the 
Venture might float before morning. She never 
had floated, and she seemed so hard and fast 
aground that he imagined a rise of several feet of 
water would be necessary to move her. It had 
not yet rained where he was, and the thought that 
it might be raining higher up the stream did not 
enter his mind. So he went comfortably to bed, 
and slept like a top for several hours. Finally, he 
was awakened so suddenly that he sprang from the 
bunk, and by the time his eyes were fairly opened, 
was standing in the middle of the floor listening 
to a strange creaking and scratching on the roof 
above his head. It had aroused him, and now as 
he listened to it, and tried in vain to catch a single 
gleam of light through the intense darkness, it 
was so incomprehensible and uncanny, that brave 
boy as he was, he felt shivers creeping over his 
arms and back. 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 33 

Could the sounds be made by an animal ? Winn 
knew there were wildcats and an occasional 
panther in the forests bordering the creek. If it 
was caused by wild-cats there must be at least a 
dozen of them, and he had never heard of as many 
as that together. Besides, wild-cats wouldn’t make 
such sounds. They might spit and snarl ; but 
certainly no one had ever heard them squeak and 
groan. All at once there came a great swishing 
overhead and then all was still, save for the howl- 
ing of the wind and the roar of a deluge of rain 
which Winn now heard for the first time. 

The boy felt his way into the forward room and 
opened the door to look out, but was greeted by 
such a fierce rush of wind and rain that he was 
thankful for the strength that enabled him to close 
it again. Mingled with the other sounds of the 
storm, Winn now began to distinguish that of 
waves plashing on the deck of the raft. Certainly 
his surroundings had undergone some extraordi- 
nary change since he turned in for the night, but 
what it was passed the boy’s comprehension. 

After a long search he found a box of matches 
and lighted the lamp, forgetting that all its oil 
had been exhausted the evening before. It burned 
for a few minutes with a sickly flame, and then 
went out. Even that feeble light had been a com- 
fort. It had showed him that everything was still 
3 


SJf. Raftmates : 

all right inside the “ shanty,” besides enabling him 
to find and put on the clothes that he had hung 
near the stove to dry. As he finished dressing, 
and was again standing in utter darkness puzzling 
over his situation, he was nearly paralyzed by a 
blinding glare of light that suddenly streamed into 
the window nearest him. It was accompanied by 
the hoarse roar of steam, a confusion of shoutings, 
and the loud clangor of bells. Without a thought 
of the weather, Winn again flung open the door 
and rushed into the open air. So intense and 
dazzling was the flood of yellow light, that he 
seemed to be gazing into the crater of an- active 
volcano. It flashed by as suddenly as it had ap- 
peared, and the terrified boy became aware that a 
big steamboat was slipping swiftly past the raft, 
but a few feet from it. The bewildering glare 
had come from her roaring furnaces ; and had not 
their doors been thrown open just when they were, 
she would have crashed at full speed into the 
raft, with such consequences as can easily be 
imagined. As it was she was barely able to sheer 
off in time, and a score of voices hurled back angry 
threats at the supposed crew of the raft, whose 
neglect to show a lantern had so nearly led to 
death and destruction. 

So long as he could detect the faintest twinkle 
of light from the rapidly receding boat, or hear 


A Story of the Great River. 85 

the measured congliings of lier exhausted steam, 
Winn stood gazing and listening, regardless of the 
rain that was drenching him to the skin. He was 
overwhelmed by a realization of his situation. 
That steamboat had told him as plainly as if she 
had spoken that the Venture was not only afloat, 
but had in some way reached the great river, and 
was drifting with its mighty current. He had no 
idea of how long he had thus drifted, nor how far 
he was from home. He only knew that the dis- 
tance was increasing with each moment, and that 
until daylight at least he was powerless to help 
himself. 

As he turned towards the door of the “ shanty,” 
he stumbled over something, which, by stooping, 
he discovered to be the branch of a tree. To the 
keen-witted boy this was like the sight of a printed 
page. 

“ That accounts for the noise on the roof that 
woke me,” he said to himself. “The raft was 
passing under those low branches at the mouth of 
the creek, and I can’t be more than a mile or so 
from there now.” 

For an instant the idea of paddling home in his 
canoe and leaving the raft to its fate flashed 
across his mind, but it was dismissed as promptly 
as it had come. “ Not much I won’t !” he said, 
aloud. “ I’ve shipped for the voyage, and I’m 


36 Raftmates : 

going to see it through in spite of everything. 
Besides, it’s my own fault that I’m in this fix. If 
I hadn’t carried away that cable this thing never 
could have happened. What a fool I was! But 
who would have supposed the water could rise so 
quickly ?” 

The thought of his little dugout caused the boy 
to wonder if it were still attached to the raft where 
he had made it fast the evening before. Again 
he ventured outside to look for the canoe, but the 
darkness was so dense and the violence of the 
storm so bewildering that, after a narrow escape 
from stepping overboard, he realized that without 
a light of some kind the undertaking was too 
dangerous. “ There must be a lantern some- 
where,” he thought. “ Yes, I remember seeing 
one brought aboard.” Finally he discovered it 
hanging near the stove, and, to his joy, it was full 
of oil. By its aid his search for the canoe was 
successful, and he was delighted to find it floating 
safely alongside, though half full of water, and in 
danger of being stove against the timbers of the 
raft by the waves that were breaking on deck. 
With infinite labor he at length succeeded in haul- 
ing the little craft aboard and securing it in a 
place of safety. Then, though he would gladly 
have had the comfort of a light in the “ shanty. ” 
the thought of his recent narrow escape warned 


A Story of the Great River . SI 

him to guard against another similar danger by 
running the lantern to the top of the signal-pole, 
and leaving it there as a beacon. 

He could do nothing more ; and so, drenched, 
chilled, and weary, the lonely lad crept back into 
the “ shanty.” How dreary it was to be its sole 
occupant ! If he only had some one to talk, plan, 
and consult with ! He felt so helpless and insig- 
nificant there in the dark, drifting down the great 
river on a raft that, without help, he was as in- 
capable of managing as a baby. What ought he 
to do ? What should he do \ It was so hard to 
think without putting his thoughts into words. 
Even Elta’s presence and counsel would be a com- 
fort, and the boy laughed bitterly to recall how 
often he had treated the dear sister’s practical 
common -sense with contempt because she was 
only a girl. How how gladly would he listen to 
her advice ! It was pretty evident that his self- 
conceit had received a staggering blow, and that 
self-reliance would be thankful for the backing 
of another’s wisdom. 

As Winn sat by the table, forlorn and shivering, 
it suddenly occurred to him that there was no 
reason why he should not have a fire. There was 
plenty of dry wood. How stupid he had been 
not to think of it before ! Acting upon this idea, 
he quickly had a cheerful blaze snapping and 


88 Raftmates : 

crackling in the little stove, which soon began to 
diffuse a welcome warmth throughout the room. 
By a glance at his watch — a small silver one that 
had been his father’s when he was a boy — Winn 
found the night to be nearly gone. He was greatly 
comforted by the thought that in less than two 
hours daylight would reveal his situation and give 
him a chance to do something. Still, the lonely 
waiting was very tedious, the boy was weary, and 
the warmth of the fire made him sleepy. At first 
he struggled against the overpowering drowsiness, 
but finally he yielded to it, and, with his head sunk 
on his folded arms, which rested on the table, was 
soon buried in a slumber as profound as that of 
the earlier night. 

At daylight the unguided raft was seen in the 
“ Slant Crossing ” by the crew of an up-bound 
steamboat, and they wondered at the absence of all 
signs of life aboard it. Every now and then the 
drifting mass of timber touched on some sand-bar 
or reef, but the current always swung it round, so 
that it slid off and resumed its erratic voyage. At 
length, after floating swiftly and truly down a 
long straight chute, the Venture was seized by an 
eddy at its foot, revolved slowly several times, 
and then reluctantly dragged into a false channel 
on the western side of a long, heavily -timbered 
island. Half-way down its length the raft 


39 


A Story of the Great River . 

“ saddle-bagged,” as the river men say, or floated 
broadside on, against a submerged rock. It struck 
fairly amidsbip, and there it hung, forming a 
barrier, around the ends of which the hurrying 
waters laughed and gurgled merrily. 

With the shock of the striking Winn awoke, 
straightened himself, and rubbed his eyes, wonder- 
ing vaguely where he was and what had happened. 


CHAPTER VI. 


MR GILDER AND HIS RUDE RECEPTION. 

After emerging from the “ shanty,” it did not 
take the solitary occupant of the raft long to dis- 
cover the nature of his new predicament. The 
water was sufficiently clear for him to make out 
an indistinct outline of the rock on which the raft 
was hung, and as the rain was still falling, he 
quickly regained the shelter of the “ shanty,” there 
to consider the situation. It did not take him 
long to make up his mind that this was a case in 
which assistance was absolutely necessary, and that 
he must either wait for it to come to him or go 
in search of it. First of all, though, he must have 
something to eat. He had no need to look at his 
watch to discover that it was breakfast-time. The 
condition of his appetite told him that. 

Now Winn had never learned to cook. He had 
regarded that as an accomplishment that was well 
enough for girls to acquire, but one quite beneath 
the notice of a man. Besides, cooking was easy 
enough, and any one could do it who had to. It 
was only necessary to put things into a pot and let 


Raftmates : A Story of tlie Great River. J^l 

them boil, or into an oven to bake. Of course 
they must be watched and taken from the stove 
when done, but that was about all there was to 
cooking. There was a sack of corn-meal in the 
“ shanty,” and a jug of maple syrup. A dish of 
hot mush would be the very thing. Then there 
was coffee already ground ; of course he would 
have a cup of coffee. So the boy made a roaring 
fire, found the coffee-pot, set it on the stove, and 
filled a large saucepan with corn-meal. 

“ There may be a little too much in there,” he 
thought; “but I can save what I can’t eat now 
for lunch, and then fry it, as mother does.” 

Having got thus far in his preparations, he 
took a bucket and went outside for some water 
from the river. Here he remained for a few min- 
utes to gaze at a distant up-bound steamboat, and 
wondered why he had not noticed her when she 
passed the raft. Although the river seemed some- 
what narrower than he thought it should be, he 
had no idea but that he was still in its main chan- 
nel, and that the land on his left was the Wiscon- 
sin shore. 

Still wondering how he could have missed see- 
ing, or at least hearing, the steamboat, the boy re- 
entered the u shanty.” Thinking of steamboats 
rather than of cooking, he began to pour water 
into the saucepan of meal, which at once began to 


J$ Raftmates : 

run over. Thus recalled to his duties, he removed 
half of the wet meal to another pan, filled it with 
water, and set both pans on the stove. Then 
he poured a stream of cold water into the coffee- 
pot, which by this time was almost red-hot. The 
effect was as distressing as it was unexpected. A 
cloud of scalding steam rushed up into his face 
and filled the room, the coffee-pot rolled to the 
floor with a clatter, and there was such a furious 
hissing and sputtering that poor Winn dropped 
his bucket of water and staggered towards the 
door, fully convinced that he was the victim of a 
boiler explosion. 

When the cloud of steam cleared away, the boy 
ruefully surveyed the scene of disaster, and won- 
dered what had gone wrong. “ I’m sure nothing 
of the kind ever happened in mother’s kitchen,” 
he said to himself. In spite of his smarting face, 
he determined not to be daunted by this first mis- 
hap, but to try again. So he wiped the floor 
with a table-cloth, drew another bucket of water 
from the river, and resolved to proceed with the 
utmost care this time. To his dismay, as he 
stooped to pick up the coffee-pot, he found that it 
had neither bottom nor spout, but was a total and 
useless wreck. “ What a leaky old thing it must 
have been,” soliloquized the boy. 

Just then his attention was attracted by another 


A Story of the Great River. 

hissing sound from the stove and a smell of burn- 
ing. Two yellow streams were pouring over the 
sides of the saucepans. 

“Hello!” cried Winn, as he seized a spoon and 
began ladling a portion of the contents from each 
into a third pan. “ How ever did these things get 
full again ? I’m sure I left lots of room in them.” 

At that moment the contents of all three pans 
began to burn, and he filled them with water. A 
few minutes later all three began to bubble over, 
and he got more pans. Before he was through 
with that mush, every available inch of space on 
the stove was covered with pans of it, the dis- 
gusted cook was liberally bedaubed with it, and so 
was the floor. The contents of some of the pans 
were burned black ; others were as weak as gruel ; 
all were lumpy, and all were insipid for want of salt. 

For a moment Winn, hot, cross, and smarting 
from many scalds and burns, reviewed the results of 
his first attempt at preparing a meal with a comi- 
cal expression, in which wrath and disgust were 
equally blended. Then, yielding to an impulse of 
anger, he picked up one of the messes and flung 
it, pan and all, out through the open door. He 
was stooping to seize the next, which he proposed 
to treat in a similar manner, when a hand was laid 
on his shoulder, and he was almost petrified with 
amazement by hearing a voice exclaim : 


Raftmates : 


U 


“ Hold on, young man ! One at a time is 
enough. It’s very pleasant to be greeted warmly, 
but there is such a thing as too warm a reception. 
I’ll allow you didn’t see me coming, though if I 
thought you did, I’d chuck you overboard for that 
caper.” 

The speaker, who stood in the doorway striving 
to remove the mess of sticky mush that had struck 
him full in the breast and now covered a large 
portion of his body, including his face, was a man 
of middle age and respectable appearance, clad in 
a rubber suit and a slouched hat. 

Filled with shame and contrition at this unex- 
pected result of his foolish action, Winn was pro- 
fuse in his apologies, and picking up the useful 
table-cloth that had already served him in one 
emergency, stepped forward with an offer of as- 
sistance. The stranger waved him back, and re- 
moved the greater part of the m£ss by taking off 
his rubber coat. At the same time he said : 

“ There’s no harm done, and worse might have 
happened. You might have been pitching stove 
lids, or hot soup, or knives and forks, you know. 
So, you see, I’m to be congratulated on getting off 
as well as I have. But where is the boss of this 
raft, and the crew ? How did you happen to run 
in here out of the channel ? You are not alone, 
are you ?” 



“‘hold on, young man! one at a time is enough.’” 




A Story of the Great River. ]±5 

“Yes, sir,” replied Winn. a I’m captain and 
crew and everything else just at present — except- 
ing cook,” he added, hastily, as he noted the 
stranger’s amused glance at the stove and its sur- 
roundings. 

“ Who is cook, then ?” 

“ There isn’t any,” answered Winn ; and for 
that reason there isn’t any breakfast, nor likely to 
be any, for I’ll starve before I try my hand at it 
again.” 

“ There seems to be plenty of breakfast, such as 
it is,” said the stranger, gravely, indicating by a 
glance the many pans of spoiled mush. Then see- 
ing that the boy was really in distress, and not in 
a joking humor, he added, “ But let me help you 
set things to rights, and then I’ll see if I can’t 
show you how to get up some sort of a breakfast. 
I’m not a regular cook, as perhaps you may guess ; 
but then, again, I am one, in a way, as all we river- 
traders have to be.” 

“Are you a river-trader?” asked Winn. 

“Yes; and there are three of us. But I’ll tell 
you all about it, and you shall tell me your story 
after we’ve had breakfast.” 

To Winn, the expeditious manner in which his 
recent culinary disasters were repaired and a sim- 
ple but well-cooked breakfast was made ready by 
this stranger was a source of undisguised admira- 


Ifi Baftmates : 

tion. Even coffee, clear and strong, was made in 
a tin can. One edge of the can was bent into the 
form of a rude spout ; then it was filled two-thirds 
with water, and set on the stove. When the water 
came to a boil, half a cupful of ground coffee, 
tied loosely in a bit of clean muslin, was dropped 
into it, and allowed to boil for three minutes. A 
kind of biscuit made of flour, water, shortening, 
baking-powder, and salt, well mixed, and rolled 
thin, was quickly baked, first on one side and then 
on the other, in an iron skillet on top of the 
stove. At the same time a single cupful of corn- 
meal, well salted, and boiled for half an hour, fur- 
nished a large dish of smoking mush. Half a dozen 
thin slices of bacon broiled on a toaster completed 
what Winn enthusiastically declared was the very 
best breakfast he had ever eaten. Still, the boy 
was so ravenously hungry that it is probable even 
his own burned and lumpy mixture of corn-meal 
would not have tasted so bad as it looked. 

While he was busy -with the breakfast, the 
stranger, who said his name was Gilder, talked 
pleasantly on many subjects. At the same time he 
managed somehow to learn all about Winn and 
his family, the raft and how it happened to be 
where it was, without giving a single item of in- 
formation concerning himself in return. 

When Winn finally declared that he could eat 


A Story of the Great River. Jft 

no more, Mr. Gilder also pushed back his chair, and 
said : 

“Now, then, for business. First, I must tell you 
that you are in a very serious predicament. I ex- 
amined the position of this raft before coming 
aboard, and arrived at the conclusion that both it 
and its cargo are in a fair way of becoming a total 
loss. As soon as the river falls again, which it is 
likely to do at any time, the raft will probably 
break in pieces of its own weight. In that case 
you would lose both it and your wheat. The only 
plan I can suggest for saving the raft is to lighten 
it until it floats clear of the rock on which it is 
hung, by throwing the wheat overboard ; or, if you 
can manage it, land your wheat on the island, 
where it can remain until you can take it away. 
Of course the decision as to which of these things 
you will do rests entirely with yourself ; but you 
must make up your mind quickly, for with this 
uncertain state of water there isn’t an hour to lose. 


CHAPTER VII. 


A GANG OF “RIVER- TRADERS.” 

For a whole minute Winn sat silent, while from 
the opposite side of the table Mr. Gilder regarded 
his perplexed countenance with an expression that 
was not altogether pleasant. Winn, suddenly look- 
ing up from his hard thinking, was a bit startled 
by it ; but as it instantly melted into one of smil- 
ing sympathy, his confidence in the man remained 
unbroken. Had he seen Mr. Gilder two hours ear- 
lier, instead of one, his opinion of the individual 
who had just prepared such a capital breakfast, 
expressed so great friendliness, and now showed 
him so plainly the unpleasant predicament into 
which he had fallen, would have been decidedly 
different. 

At that time Mr. Gilder was kneeling beside an 
opening in the floor of a log-hut, in the centre of 
the island, and lifting from it a tray of odd-looking 
but beautifully made tools. The hut was small 
and rudely constructed. It was surrounded by a 
dense forest growth, and stood in a tiny clearing 
from which no road or trail could be seen to lead. 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . J+9 

All its appointments were of the most primitive 
description, and yet a single glance into its interior 
would have impressed one with the belief that its 
occupants were millionaires. The effect of piles 
and stacks of greenbacks, enough to form the cap- 
ital of a city bank or fill the vaults of a sub-treas- 
ury, amid such surroundings, would certainly have 
startled even those accustomed to the handling of 
great wealth. The bills, all of which were new 
and crisp, were done up in neat packages, each of 
which was marked with the number of hundreds 
or thousands of dollars it contained. In one corner 
of the room stood a small printing-press of exqui- 
site make. Besides this press, a work-bench, table, 
and several rude stools, the single room of the hut 
contained only the piles of greenbacks. 

A man sat beside the table counting and sorting 
a large number of bills, the worn appearance of 
which showed them to have been in active circula- 
tion for some time. This man was small, and had 
a weazened face devoid of hair except for a pair of 
bushy, iron-gray eyebrows, beneath which his eyes 
gleamed as cunningly bright as those of a fox. He 
answered to the name of Grimshaw ; and as he 
counted bills with the deftness and rapidity of a 
bank cashier, he also paid a certain amount of at- 
tention to the remarks of his companion, who was 
talking earnestly. 

4 


50 Itaftmates : 

“ I tell you wliat it is, Grim,” the other was 
saying, as he bent over the secret opening in the 
floor, “ it’s high time we were moving. This is 
a first-class location, and we’ve done well here; but 
you know as well as I do that our business re- 
quires a pretty frequent change of scene, and I’m 
afraid we’ve stayed here too long already. One of 
those mill fellows said only yesterday that we 
must have collected a powerful lot of stufl by this 
time, and asked if we weren’t about ready to invite 
him up to inspect and bid on it. I told him we 
were thinking of putting it into a raft and taking 
it down-river. Never had such an idea, you 
know, but the notion just popped into my head, 
and I’m not sure now but what it’s as good a one 
as we’ll strike. What do you think ?” 

“ It ’ll take a heap of hard work, and more time 
than I for one want to spare, to build a raft large 
enough for our purpose,” answered Grimshaw. 
“ Still, I don’t know as the idea is wholly bad.” 

“It would take time, that’s a fact,” answered 
Mr. Gilder, lifting his tray of tools to the table 
and proceeding to polish some of them with a bit 
of buckskin. “ And it looks as though time was 
going to be an object with us shortly. That last 
letter from Wiley showed that the Chicago folks 
were beginning to sniff pretty suspiciously in this 
direction. I’ve been asked some awkward ques- 


51 


A Story of the Great River. 

tions lately, too. Yes, the more I think of it, the 
more I am convinced that we ought to be getting 
out of here as quickly as we can make arrange- 
ments. We must talk it over with Plater, and 
come to some decision this very day. He’s — 
Hello ! Something’s up. Plater was to stay in 
camp till I got back.” 

Again came the peculiar, long-drawn whistle 
that had arrested the attention of the men, and 
which denoted the approach of a friend. Mr. Gil- 
der stepped to the door and answered it. Then 
he looked expectantly towards a laurel thicket that 
formed part of the dense undergrowth surround- 
ing the hut. In a moment the dripping branches 
were parted near the ground, and a man, emerging 
from the bushes on his hands and knees, stood up, 
shook himself like a Newfoundland dog, and ad- 
vanced towards the open door. He was a large 
man with long hair and a bushy beard. He was 
clad in flannel, jeans, and cowhide boots, and was 
evidently of a different class from Mr. Gilder, who 
appeared to be a gentleman, and was dressed as one. 

“ What’s up, Plater ?” asked the latter. 

“ Big raft, three shanties on it, in false channel, 
saddle-bagged on the reef pretty nigh abreast of 
camp. Can’t see nobody aboard. Reckon she 
broke adrift from somewheres while her crew was 
off on a frolic.” 


52 


Raftmates : 

“ You don’t say so !” cried Mr. Gilder, excitedly. 
“ Perhaps it’s the very thing we are most in need 
of, sent by a special providence to crown our 
labors with success. I’ll go down and have a look 
' at her, while you stay here and help Grim pack 
up the stuff. We might as well be prepared for a 
sudden move, and he’ll tell you what we have just 
been talking about.” 

So Mr. Gilder, donning his rubber coat, a gar- 
ment that Plater would have scorned to wear, left 
the clearing through another bushy thicket on the 
opposite side from that by which his confederate 
had entered it. An almost undiscernible path led 
him to the shore of the island that was washed by 
the main channel of the river. Here he struck 
into a plainly marked trail that followed the 
water’s edge. In this trail Mr. Gilder walked to 
the southern end of the island, and up its other 
side until he reached a comfortable camp that bore 
signs of long occupancy. It stood high on a 
cut bank, and just below it a rude boom held a 
miscellaneous assortment of logs, lumber, and odd 
wreckage, all of it evidently collected from the 
stray drift of the great river. 

From the edge of the bank, a short distance 
from this camp, the man commanded a good view 
of the stranded raft, and for several minutes he 
stood gazing at it. “ There’s the very thing to a 


A Story of the Great River. 58 

T, that we want,” he said to himself. “ Not too 
big for us to handle, and yet large enough to make 
it seem an object for us to take it down the river. 
I can’t see what they want of three shanties, 
though ; one ought to be enough for all the crew 
she needs. Our first move would be to tear down 
two of them, and lengthen the other; that alone 
would be a sufficient disguise. We haven’t got 
her yet, though, and she isn’t abandoned either, 
for there’s smoke coming from that middle shanty. 
I reckon the cook must be aboard, and maybe he’ll 
sell the whole outfit for cash, and so give us a clear 
title to it.” Here Mr. Gilder smiled as though 
the thought was most amusing. “ I’ll go off and 
interview him anyway, and I’d better be about it 
too, for the river is still rising. She won’t hang 
there much longer, and if the fellow found his 
raft afloat again before a bargain was made he 
might not come to terms. In that case we should 
be obliged to take forcible possession, which 
would be risky. I’m bound to have that raft, 
though. It is simply a case of necessity, and 
necessity is in the same fix we are, so far as law 
is concerned. 

While thus thinking, Mr. Gilder had stepped mto 
a light skiff that was moored near the boom, and 
was pulling towards the stranded raft. He first 
examined its position, and assured himself that 


5 If. Raftmates : 

very little labor would be necessary to float it; 
then he stepped aboard, and very nearly lost his 
customary self-possession upon the receipt of 
Winn’s warm greeting. He was on the point of 
returning it in a manner that would have proved 
most unpleasant for poor Winn, when he discov- 
ered that his supposed assailant was only a boy, 
and that the act was unintentional. It took the 
shrewd man but a few minutes to discover the 
exact state of affairs aboard the raft, and to form a 
plan for gaining peaceful, if not altogether lawful, 
possession of it. This plan he began to carry out 
by the false statement of the situation made to 
Winn at the conclusion of the last chapter. This 
beginning was not made, however, until he had first 
gained the lad’s confidence by a deed of kindness. 

When Winn looked up from his hard thinking 
he said, “ I hate the thought of throwing the 
wheat overboard, even to save the raft. There are 
two thousand bushels of it, and I know my father 
expects to get at least fifty cents a bushel. So it 
would seem like throwing a thousand dollars into 
the river. Then, again, I don’t see how it will be 
possible to land it, and so lighten the raft. It 
would take me a month to do it alone with my 
canoe. Besides, father is sure to set out on a hunt 
for the raft the moment he finds it is gone, and so 
is likely to come along most any time.” 


55 


A Story of the Great River . 

“All the greater need for haste/' thought Mr. 
Gilder ; but aloud he said, “ That is very true, but 
in the mean time your raft will probably break up, 
and your wheat be spilled in the river anyway. 
Now suppose you agree to pay me and my part- 
ners a hundred dollars to get the wheat ashore for 
you and reload it after the raft floats.” 

“I haven’t a cent of money with me,” replied 
Winn. 

“ That’s bad,” said the other, reflectively. “ It’s 
awkward to travel without money. But I’ll tell 
you what we’ll do. I hate to see a decent young 
fellow like you in such a fix, and I’m willing to 
take a risk to help him out of it. Suppose I buy 
your wheat? I told you that I and my partners 
were river traders. To be sure, our business is 
mostly in logs, lumber, and the like ; but I don’t 
mind taking an occasional flyer in wheat, provided 
they are willing. You say your father expects to 
get-fifty cents a bushel for this wheat. Now I’ll give 
you forty-five cents a bushel for it ; that is, if my 
partners agree. That will leave five cents a bushel 
to pay us for landing it, transferring it to some 
other craft, and getting your raft afloat. V/hat do 
you say?” 

“ I wish I could ask father about it,” hesitated 
Winn, to whom, under the circumstances as he sup- 
posed them to exist, the offer seemed very tempting. 


56 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . 

“ Oh, well,” sneered Mr. Gilder, “ if you are not 
man enough now to act upon your own responsi- 
bility in such an emergency, you never will be. 
So the sooner you get home again and tie up to 
your mother’s apron -string the sooner you’ll be 
where you belong.” 

The taunt was as well worn as it was cruel, and 
should have given Winn an insight into the true 
character of his new acquaintance ; but on a boy 
so proud of his ability to decide for himself, and 
so ignorant of the ways of the world as this one, it 
was sufficient to produce the desired effect. 

Winn flushed hotly as he answered : “ The wheat 
is my father’s, and not mine to sell ; but for the 
sake of saving it as well as the raft, I will let you 
have it at that price. I must have the cash, though, 
before you begin to move it.” 

“ Spoken like the man I took you to be,” said 
Mr. Gilder, heartily. “ Now we’ll go ashore and 
see my partners. If they agree to the bargain, as 
no doubt they will, we’ll get to work at once, and 
have your raft afloat again in no time.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


DISAPPEARANCE OF THE RAFT. 

When Winn and his new acquaintance stepped 
outside of the “ shanty,” it did not seem to the 
boy that the river was falling, or that the raft was 
in a particularly dangerous position. He would 
have liked to examine more closely into its condi- 
tion, but his companion so occupied his attention 
by describing the manner in which he proposed to 
remove the wheat, and so hurried him into the 
waiting skiff, that he had no opportunity to 
do so. 

The “ river-traders’ ” camp was not visible from 
the raft, nor did Mr. Gilder, who handled the oars, 
head the skiff in its direction. He rowed diago- 
nally up-stream instead, so as to land at some dis- 
tance above it. There he asked Winn to wait a 
few minutes until he should discover in which 
direction his partners had gone. He explained 
that one of them had been left in camp at a con- 
siderable distance from that point, while he and 
the third had been rowing along the shore of the 
island in opposite directions, searching for drift- 


58 


Raftmates : 

logs. Thus he alone had discovered the stranded 
raft. Now he wished to bring them to that point, 
that they might see it for themselves before he ex- 
plained the proposed wheat deal. With this Mr. 
Gilder plunged directly into the tall timber, leav- 
ing Winn alone on the river-bank. 

It was fully fifteen minutes before the man re- 
turned to the waiting lad, and he not only looked 
heated but anxious. 

“ I can’t think what has become of those fel- 
lows !” he exclaimed, breathlessly, as he wiped the 
moisture from his forehead with a cambric hand- 
kerchief. “I’ve been clear to camp without find- 
ing a trace of either of them. Now there is only 
one thing left for us to do in order to get them 
here quickly. You and I must start around the 
island in opposite directions, because if we went 
together we might follow them round and round 
like a kitten chasing its tail. If you meet them, 
bring them back here, and I will do the same. If 
you don’t meet them, keep on until you are half- 
way down the other side of the island, or exactly 
opposite this point ; then strike directly into the 
timber, and so make a short-cut back here. In 
that way you will reach this place again as soon as 
I, for the island isn’t more than three hundred 
yards wide just here. Be spry, now, and remember 
that the safety of your raft depends largely upon 


59 


A Story of the Great River . 

the promptness with which we get those other fel- 
lows here.” 

With this Mr. Gilder began to walk rapidly 
down the shore in the direction he had chosen. 
Carried away by the man’s impetuosity, Winn 
did not hesitate to obey his instructions, but started 
at once in the opposite direction. Mr. Gilder, 
noting this by a backward glance over his 
shoulder, instantly halted and concealed himself 
behind a large tree-trunk. From here he peered 
at the retreating figure of the boy until it was no 
longer visible. Then he gave vent to the same 
peculiar whistle with which Plater had announced 
his own approach to the log-hut in the woods. 
The sound was immediately answered from no 
great distance, whereupon Mr. Gilder hastened in 
that direction. A minute later he returned, bring- 
ing a coil of stout rope, one end of which he made 
fast to a tree on the bank. At the same time 
both Grimshaw and Plater appeared, each bearing 
a large package securely wrapped in canvas on 
his shoulder. 

All three men entered the skiff and pulled out 
to the raft, carrying the loose end of the rope with 
them. Mr. Gilder and Grimshaw quickly returned 
to the land, leaving the burly Plater to make a vigor- 
ous attack with an axe against the sides of one of 
the wheat bins. He soon splintered and tore off 


60 


Raftmates : 

a board, leaving an aperture through which a broad 
stream of wheat rushed out on the deck of the raft. 
This Plater began to shovel overboard, working 
with furious energy, as though combating a hated 
enemy. In ten minutes both bins were empty, 
and so much of the wheat had gone into the ever- 
rising waters that the raft, which had been on the 
point of floating when Plater began his operations, 
now did so, and swung in close to the bank at the 
end of its new cable. 

In the mean time the other men had brought 
several skiff-loads of their peculiar merchandise to 
the raft, and now it took but a few minutes to 
transfer what remained on the bank directly to it. 
Even the tent, which had been hastily torn down, 
together with a portion of their camp outfit, was 
tossed aboard, and within fifteen minutes from 
the time of Winn’s departure the Venture , with 
its new crew at the sweeps, was moving slowly out 
from the island, and gathering impetus from the 
current for a continuance of its eventful voyage. 

Without a suspicion that the gentlemanly 
stranger who had so kindly smoothed away his 
culinary difficulties, and, while apparently willing 
to assist him, was also anxious to make a good bar- 
gain for himself, was anything but what he ap- 
peared to be, Winn made his way briskly towards 
the head of the island. It was only after round- 


61 


A Story of the Great River. 

ing it and starting down the opposite side with- 
out seeing a sign of those whom he sought that 
he began to have misgivings. 

“ I wonder if it is all right ?” he said to himself. 
“What could be the man’s object in telling me 
that the raft was in a dangerous position if she 
isn’t ? I declare I don’t believe she is, though ! 
She didn’t look it when I left, and I do believe the 
river is still rising. I wonder if I haven’t done a 
foolish thing in leaving the raft? If I have, the 
best thing to do now is to get back as quickly as 
possible.” 

By this time the boy had worked himself into a 
fever of apprehension, and, remembering what he 
had been told concerning the narrowness of the 
island, he determined to make a short-cut across it. 
This was exactly what the far-sighted Mr. Gilder 
had anticipated, and Winn fell an easy victim to 
his artfully planned trap. For nearly an hour the 
boy, versed in wood-craft as he was, wandered and 
struggled through the dense undergrowth of that 
island forest. Suddenly, as he burst his way through 
a thicket, he was confronted by the log-hut so lately 
occupied by the “ river-traders.” Winn shouted as 
he approached it ; but, of course, received no reply. 
It had the lonely look of a place long deserted, and 
the boy paused for but a single glance into its un- 
inviting interior. Then, getting his bearings anew 


62 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

by the sun that was beginning to struggle through 
the clouds, he pushed his way resolutely towards 
the western side of the island, which, somewhat to 
his surprise, he reached a few minutes later. 

He emerged from the timber at the abandoned 
camp of the traders ; but without stopping to ex- 
amine it, he ran to the water’s edge, and gazed 
anxiously both up and down stream. There was 
no sign of the raft nor of any moving object. “ It 
must be farther up, around that point,” thought 
Winn, and he hurried in that direction. From one 
point to another he thus pursued his anxious way 
until the head of the island was once more in sight. 
Then he knew that he must have passed the place 
where the raft had been, and that it was gone. 

As a realizing sense of how he had been duped 
and of his present situation flashed through his 
mind, the poor boy sat down on a log, too bewil- 
dered to act, or even to think. 





‘A BROAD STREAM OF WHEAT RUSHED OUT ON DECK. 



CHAPTER IX. 


ALONE ON THE ISLAND. 

Winn Caspar was indeed unhappy as he sat on 
that log and gazed hopelessly out over the spar- 
kling waters, on which the sun was now shining 
brightly. Although he had explored only a por- 
tion of the island, he felt that he was alone on it. 
But that was by no means the worst of the situa- 
tion. The raft in which he had taken so much 
pride, his father’s raft upon which so much de- 
pended, the raft on which he had expected to float 
out into the great world, was gone, and he was 
powerless to follow it. All through his own fault, 
too ! This thought was the hardest to bear. Why, 
even Elta would have known better. Of course 
she would. Any one but he would, and she was 
wiser than almost any one he knew. How dearly 
he loved this wise little sister, and to think that he 
had parted with her in anger ! When was that ! 
Only last evening ! Impossible ! It must have been 
weeks ago. It wasn’t, though ! It was only a few 
hours ago, and his father had hardly had time to 
come and look for him yet. Perhaps he was even 


64 Raftmates : 

now on his way down the river, and might be pass- 
ing on the other side of the island. 

With this thought the boy sprang to his feet, 
and hurrying to the head of the island, eagerly 
scanned the waters of the main channel. There 
was nothing in sight, not even a skiff or a canoe. 
“ Even my dugout is gone,” thought Winn, v ith a 
fresh pang, for he was very fond of the little c ’aft 
that was all his own. Then he wondered how ne 
should attract his father’s attention, and decided 
to build a fire, with the hope that Major Caspar 
might come to it to make inquiries, and thus effect 
his rescue. 

Having a definite object to work for cheered 
the boy somewhat, and his heart grew sensibly 
lighter as he began to collect wood for his fire. 
But how should he light it ? He had no matches. 
For a moment this new difficulty seemed insur- 
mountable; then he remembered having seen the 
smouldering remains of a fire at the abandoned 
camp on the other side of the island. He must 
go back to it at once. 

Hurrying back around the head of the island, 
Winn reached the place just in time to find a few 
embers still glowing faintly, and after whittling 
a handful of shavings, he succeeded, by a great ex- 
penditure of breath, in coaxing a tiny flame into 
life. Very carefully he piled on dry chips, and 


65 


A Story of the Great River. 

then larger sticks, until finally he had a fire 
warranted to live through a rain-storm. Now 
for another on the opposite side of the isl- 
and ! 

He could not carry lighted sticks the way he 
had come. It was too far. He thought he could 
get them safely across the island, though, if he 
only knew the most direct path. He would first 
discover this and then return for his fire. Quite 
early in the search he stumbled across a very nar- 
row trail that seemed to lead in the right direc- 
tion. By following it he came once more to the 
deserted log-hut in the forest, but search through 
the little clearing as he might, he could not see 
that it went any farther. 

Taking his bearings, after deciding to open a 
trail of his own from there to the river, the boy 
attacked a thicket on the eastern side of the clear- 
ing with his jack-knife. A few minutes of cutting 
carried him through it, and, to his amazement, he 
found himself again in an unmistakable trail. It 
was narrow and indistinct, but it was none the less 
a trail, leading in the right direction, and the boy 
was woodman enough to follow it without hesita- 
tion to the river-bank. A steamboat was passing 
the island, but though Winn waved frantically to 
it and shouted himself hoarse, no attention was 
paid to him. With a heavy heart he watched it 
5 


66 


Raftmates : 

out of sight, and then began another collection of 
wood for his signal-fire. 

When it was made, he again crossed the island, 
selected a blazing stick from the camp-fire, and 
started to retrace his steps. By the time he 
reached the log-hut he found it necessary to stop 
and renew his blaze by building a fire in the rude 
chimney. By thus establishing a relay station he 
finally succeeded in getting a blaze to the desired 
spot on the channel side of the island, and in start- 
ing a brisk fire at that point. 

Here the boy would have stayed and watched for 
the craft that he fondly hoped would come to his 
deliverance ; but it was now a long time since 
breakfast, and his hard work had made him very 
hungry. He might find something to eat at that 
abandoned camp, which he had not yet examined. 
At any rate he would go and look. So he piled 
logs on his fire until satisfied that it would last for 
some hours. Then picking up a bit of shingle 
from the beach, he wrote on it with the stump of 
a lead-pencil : 

“ I am on the island. Follow the trail and you 
will find me. Winn Caspar.” 

This note he stuck in a cleft sapling, from 
which he first cut the top, and which stood so near 
the fire that it was certain to attract attention. 


67 


A Story of the Great River. 

Then feeling that he could do nothing more in 
that place, he set forth in search of something with 
which to satisfy his hunger. On his way back he 
stopped at the hut, and made a thorough but vain 
search for food. There was not so much as would 
have fed a mouse, and the only thing of value that 
the boy discovered was a rusty fish-hook stuck into 
one of the wall logs. Before leaving the hut he 
replenished the fire in the chimney-place, thinking 
that perhaps he might return there to sleep. Then 
he went on to the camp. 

Here Winn’s search for food was as unsuccess- 
ful as it had been at the hut. He found a number 
of cooking utensils, battered and smoked, and dis- 
covered an old axe still sticking in the log on 
which it had been last used. He also found some 
bits of rope and cord. He knotted together 
enough of the latter to make a rude line, attached 
his fish-hook to it, cut a pole, dug some bait, and 
began to fish just above the u river-traders’ ” boom. 
For some time he sat there, patiently, but got no 
bites. The poor boy began to grow desperate 
with hunger. 

“ I declare ! I’ve a great mind to swim for the 
main-land,” he said, aloud. “ No I won’t, though. 
I can do better than that. Besides, the water is 
cold enough to give me a cramp. I can make a raft 
of these logs. Why didn’t I think of it before ?” 


68 Raftmates : 

Thrusting the butt end of his pole into the soft 
earth of the bank, and weighting it with a good, 
sized stone, the boy went to the boom to examine 
its contents. There were plenty of logs suitable 
for the foundation of a raft, and more than enough 
lumber to deck it handsomely. But what was 
that brown stuff filling so many of the crevices 
between the logs and timbers ? 

“ Wheat, as I’m a living boy !” exclaimed Winn, 
stooping and gathering some of the stuff in his 
hands. “ Wheat ! but where can it have come 
from? Did the Venture suddenly break up and 
go to pieces after all, as Mr. Gilder said she would ?” 
If so, then the situation was worse than he had 
supposed, for until now the boy had entertained 
some hopes of being able to follow and perhaps 
recover the raft, especially if his father should 
come along and discover him. But if the raft 
were broken up, as the presence of this wheat 
seemed to indicate, then its loss was indeed total 
and irreparable. 

“But if they have not gone off with the raft, 
what has become of those river traders?” argued 
the boy with himself. “They might have fol- 
lowed the broken sections, or even gone off on one 
of them. I believe that’s what they have done 1” 
he exclaimed aloud. That accounts for their 
leaving in such a hurry, and taking their provisions 


69 


A Story of the Great River. 

with them. I didn’t think that Gilder was such a 
bad sort of a chap after all. Now he is pretty 
sure to come back for me after he has secured what 
he can from the wreck. But what am I to do for 
something to eat in the mean time? If I could 
only catch a fish !” 

Just then there was a great commotion in the 
water, and the pole left sticking in the bank be- 
gan to bend ominously. Winn sprang towards it ; 
but as he stretched out his hand it flew back into 
position, and the flurry in the water subsided. The 
wretched line had parted, and the big catfish, 
from which the boy could have made such a cap- 
ital supper, was seeking the deepest hole in the 
river. The worst of it all was that he had taken 
Winn’s only hook with him, and so put an end 
to any further efforts for his capture. 

The boy could have cried with hunger and vex- 
ation. It wouldn’t have done him any good, 
though, and he knew it ; so he began to gather a 
tin cup full of the water-soaked wheat instead. 
This he set on a bed of coals to boil, and was so 
hungry that he could not wait for it to be done, 
but ate it half raw, without salt, butter, sugar, 
syrup, milk, or anything that serves to render such 
food palatable, and only partially cooked at that, 
it still seemed to Winn one of the best things he 
had ever eaten, and he immediately started the 


70 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . 

cooking of another mess. There was not much of 
the wheat in sight, and to secure a second cupful 
the boy scraped up every grain that he could find. 

“After this comes starvation,’’ thought Winn ; 
unless I can get away from this island, and I am 
going to begin work on that raft at once.” 

He carefully collected every bit of rope he could 
find, and ’thus secured enough to lash together 
four of the largest logs. Above these he laid a 
platform of boards, and longed for some nails with 
which to fasten them in place. He did remark- 
ably well considering his limited means, and by 
sunset had completed a raft that would more than 
support his weight. If he could only keep it clear 
of snags and reefs it would also bear him in safety 
down the river, to some place where there were 
suppers and breakfasts to be had. 

It would not do to attempt the voyage on such 
a frail structure in the dark, of course ; and so, at 
sunset, Winn reluctantly began his preparations 
for passing a night of loneliness on the island. 


CHAPTER X. 


A NIGHT OF STRANGE HAPPENINGS. 

Winn’s preparations for the night were of the 
simplest description, because he had so little to 
prepare. The boy tried to console himself with 
this thought. “ If I had provisions I should have 
to cook,” he said to himself ; “ and if there is one 
thing in this world meaner than another it is cook- 
ing. I never realized before what mother has to 
go through with every day. Never complains of 
it, either. She’s a regular angel, though, and things 
always seem to go right with her. Now with boys 
it’s just the other way. See what a fix I’ve got 
into all on account of being a boy, and trying to 
do things. Seems to me that Gilder must have 
been a pretty patient sort of a boy to learn to cook 
the way he does. I wonder if he ever gets into 
scrapes ? He’d be in one if he was in my place 
now, and I wish I knew how he’d get out of it.” 

While thus thinking Winn was by no means 
idle. He cut a number of bushes and leaned them 
against the ridge-pole of the “traders’” tent, the 
frame of which they had left standing. This 


7# Raftmates : 

shelter was so arranged as to form a wind-break on 
the north side of the fire, the grateful warmth 
being thus reflected from its inner surface. An 
armful of twigs and another of dry grass formed 
the boy’s bed, and a drink of river- water his sup- 
per. He had thought of passing the night in the 
log-hut ; but as darkness came on he could not bear 
the thought of its lonesomeness. It was bad enough 
to be alone on the river-bank, with a broad ex- 
panse of star-dotted sky to look at ; but that forlorn 
little hut, shut in on all sides by the dark forest ! 
Ugh ! It made him shiver to think of it. Ho ; 
he was decidedly better off where he was, and even 
if his father came along during the night, which 
Winn did not think probable, he could not fail to 
see the notice posted beside the signal-fire. It 
was important that he should remain near his new 
raft too, so that at the first streak of daylight he 
could board it and be off. 

After a while the lonely lad fell into a sleep filled 
with troubled dreams. An owl came and hooted 
above him ; the night wind sighed weirdly through 
the tall timber behind him ; while queer gurglings, 
mysterious splashings, and other strange sounds 
came from the swift -flowing river close at hand. 
Although none of these sounds wakened the boy, 
they tinged his dreams with their uncanniness. 

For some hours he slept, and then woke with a 


73 


A Story of the Great River. 

start. He was sitting bolt upright, and felt certain 
that something cold and wet had just touched his 
face. He put a hand to his cheek. Yes, there was 
a wet spot. What were those two bright points 
shining in the dim fireglow ! They looked like 
eyes. Winn sprang to his feet. At his movement 
the glowing eyeballs vanished. Some animal ut- 
tered an indescribable sound, something between a 
bark and a 6narl, there was a rustling of dead 
leaves, and then all was still. 

While the boy stood trembling with the vague 
fear that always accompanies a suspected but un- 
known danger, and staring blankly into the dark- 
ness, there came to his ears from the forest depths 
a sound that was almost as terrifying as the recent 
presence of the unknown animal. It seemed a 
mingling of howls, cries, and groanings. It rose 
and fell, now loud, and then almost inaudible ; but 
it always came from the direction of the deserted 
log-hut. At length it ceased, and now Winn no- 
ticed for the first time that a faint light was be- 
ginning to tinge the eastern sky above the tree- 
tops. 

“ Daylight is coming,” thought the boy, “ and it 
is high time for me to be off.” He was glad of an 
excuse for leaving a place that had all at once be- 
come filled with such unexplained terrors. Feeling 
his way cautiously to the river -bank, he reached 


74 Baftmates : 

the little raft without mishap. It took him some 
time to get it clear of the boom ; but at length he 
succeeded, and with a very decided feeling of re- 
lief he pushed off into the current, and proceeded 
on his journey. 

Winn’s spirits rose as his clumsy craft moved 
out from the heavy shadows of the island, and he 
began to whistle to convince himself that he had 
not been afraid of anything after all. Suddenly 
he heard low voices close beside him, a dark object 
dashed up to his raft, and a dazzling light was 
flashed full in his face. The next instant ttvo men 
sprang to his side, threw him down, searched him for 
arms, secured his knife, which was the only thing 
resembling a weapon that he possessed, and forced 
him into a large skiff containing several other men. 

“ Close the lantern,” ordered one of these in a 
low but stern voice, “and pull for that fire on 
shore. No doubt we’ll bag some more of them 
there.” Then to Winn the man said, “So you 
thought you could give us the slip, did you, young 
fellow? Well, you found us up too early, didn’t 
you? Now the best thing you can do is to afford 
us all possible aid in capturing the rest of your 
gang. It ’ll count big in your favor with the 
Judge, I can tell you. How many are there on 
the island?” 

“ I don’t know what you mean — ” began Winn, 


75 


A Story of the Great River . 

indignantly ; but a heavy hand was instantly 
clapped over his mouth. 

“ Shut up !” whispered the man, hoarsely, but 
with terrible distinctness. “If you speak another 
loud word I’ll brain you. You’ll find out what I 
mean when we’ve landed you safely in Dubuque 
jail. Now answer me in a whisper. How many 
of your pals are on the island ?” 

“I haven’t any pals,” replied Winn, putting as 
much force into his whisper as he dared, “and 
there isn’t any one on the island. “ This is an out- 
rage, and — ” 

“ That will do,” answered the man, sternly. “If 
that’s the tone you are going to take, we don’t want 
to hear any more of it.” 

Just then the bow of the skifi was run on the 
bank, and the man, grasping Winn’s arm, stepped 
ashore, saying, “Now make yourself uselful, young 
fellow, and lead us to your mint or den or what- 
ever you call it. If you don’t want to I’ll find 
a way to compel you, and if you try any low- 
down tricks, I’ll make you wish you’d never been 
born.” 

“ Do you mean the log-hut ?” asked Winn. 

“Yes, if that’s what you call it ; but you want to 
get a move onto you in a hurry.” 

Bewildered and indignant as he was, Winn was 
yet cool enough to realize the folly of resistance. 


76 


Raftmates : 

He also reflected that when these men found the 
hut deserted, and that there was no one besides 
themselves on the island, they would be willing to 
listen to his story. At any rate, so long as he was 
in their power it was best to do as they directed. 
So, with the leader’s hand still grasping his arm, 
the boy led the way into the narrow trail that he 
had already traversed so often. 

Proceeding slowly, and with such extreme cau- 
tion that not a sound betrayed their presence, the 
men followed in single file. At the edge of the 
little clearing Winn halted, and was about to speak, 
when a hand was again clapped over his mouth 
with the force of a blow. 

“ Whisper !” came the order. 

“Well there’s your hut,” whispered the boy, 
as soon as he was given the chance, “and if 
you find any one in it, then I’m a liar, that’s 
all.” 

The hut was plainly visible by the firelight that 
streamed from its open window. Winn wondered 
at the brightness of this light, for it seemed as 
though the fire he had left there the evening be- 
fore ought to have burned out long ago. He 
also wondered that he did not remember hav- 
ing closed the door. As no light came from 
its direction, it certainly appeared to be closed 
now. As these thoughts flashed through the boy’s 


77 


A Story of the Great River. 

mind, the man who held him, and who was evi- 
dently the leader of the party, whispered, 

“ You say there isn’t anybody in there, but it 
looks to me as if there was. Anyhow, we’ll find 
out in another minute, and if you’ve led us into a 
trap or played us false, I’ll see that you swing for 
it, or my name’s not Riley. Bill, you stay here 
and see that this chap doesn’t put up any game on 
us while we surround that den of thieves. Have 
your guns ready for use, men.” 

Although all this was spoken in a whisper, 
inaudible beyond its immediate group of hearers, 
there was no mistaking the man’s stern meaning, 
and Winn experienced an uneasy dread such as 
he had not heretofore felt throughout this strange 
adventure. 

Suppose there should be some one in the hut ? 
Suppose the “ river-traders ” had returned to the 
island and should resent this intrusion even to the 
point of resisting it ? In such a case what would 
happen to him ? If his captors were triumphant 
they would declare he had led them into a trap, 
for doing which they had promised to hang him. 
If, on the other hand, the “ river-traders ” had re- 
turned and should make a successful fight, would 
not their wrath also be directed towards him for 
leading their assailants to the hut ? In either case, 
it seemed to the bewildered boy that his position 


78 Baftmates : 

was decidedly unpleasant, and he awaited the im- 
mediate developments of the situation with no 
little anxiety. 

Those who had followed him had disappeared 
like shadows, and Winn could not detect a sound 
save the suppressed breathing of the man who had 
been detailed to guard him, and who now held his 
arm. 

Suddenly a dog’s bark broke the stillness, and a 
loud challenge, followed by a pistol shot, rang out 
through the night air. There was a confused tram- 
pling ; the forest echoed with a roar of guns ; the 
door of the hut was burst open, and a furious rush 
was made for the interior. 

In his excitement Winn’s guard loosed his hold 
of the boy’s arm and took a step forward, the 
better to distinguish what was going on. 

Winn was free, and acting upon the impulse of 
the moment, he slipped behind .a great tree-trunk, 
stole noiselessly a few paces farther, and then 
dashed away with the speed of a deer back over 
the trail leading to the river. He did not pause 
when he reached the camp in which he had passed 
the night so unhappily, but bounded down the 
bank to the water’s edge. Here he cast loose the 
painter of the skiff that had brought Mr. Riley 
and his men to the island, and, with a mighty 
shove towards the channel, gave a spring that 


79 


A Story of the Great River. 

landed him at full length in its bottom. Here he 
lay breathless and almost motionless for the next 
thirty minutes, or until his craft had drifted below 
the tail of the island, and was spinning down the 
main channel of the great river. 


CHAPTER XI. 


BILLY BRACKETT’S SURPRISING SITUATION. 

When Billy Brackett set forth on his search 
for a nephew and a runaway raft he did not an- 
ticipate any difficulty in finding them. The ap- 
pearance of the raft had been minutely described 
to him, and, according to this description, it was too 
distinctive in its character to be mistaken for any- 
thing else. Three shanties, and they of unusual 
construction, on a raft of that size formed a pe- 
culiarity sufficient to arrest the immediate atten- 
tion of all river men. Thus the young engineer 
felt certain that by making an occasional inquiry 
and proceeding at a speed at least double that of 
the raft, he could easily trace and overtake it, even 
though it should not run aground, which he 
thought more than likely to happen early in its 
voyage. 

So Billy Brackett rowed down the creek without 
a trace of anxiety to mar the pleasure of the advent- 
ure into which he had so unexpectedly tumbled. 
One peculiarity of this light-hearted young 
man was that no proposition to leave a beaten 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 81 

track and strike into an unexplored trail, even 
though it led in exactly the opposite direction, 
could be too absurd or unexpected to meet with 
his ready approval, always providing it promised 
plenty of adventure. At the same time he never 
lost sight of the fact that he had a living to earn, 
besides a professional reputation to win and main- 
tain. Consequently he generally managed to make 
his adventures keep step with his duties. In the 
present instance he felt that Major Caspar’s aid 
was necessary to the fulfilling of his timber con- 
tract. He also realized that the only way to ob- 
tain it was by taking his brother-in-law’s place in 
searching for the lost raft and navigating it down 
the river to a market. He had no family ties to 
bind him to times or places, and with Bim for 
company he was ready to start at any moment for 
any portion of the globe. 

“ Bim ” was a diminutive of Cherubim, a name 
bestowed by its present owner upon the wretched 
puppy that he had rescued from an abandoned 
emigrant wagon high up in the California Sierras, 
because like Cherubim and Seraphim he “ continu- 
ally did cry.” The little one was nearly dead, and its 
mother, lying beside it, was quite so, when they 
were discovered by the tender-hearted engineer. 
He had fought his way through a blinding snow- 
storm and high - piled drifts to the abandoned 
6 


82 Haftmates : 

wagon on the chance of finding human beings in 
distress. When he discovered only a forlorn little 
bull-pup, he buttoned it warmly under his blanket 
overcoat and fought his way back to camp. Dur- 
ing that struggle the helpless creature won its way 
to Billy Brackett’s heart, as all young things, hu- 
man or animal, were sure to do, and assumed a 
place there that had never since been resigned. 

From that day Bim, or “U-Bim,” as he was 
sometimes called, had so thrived under good feed- 
ing, kind care, and judicious training that when he 
started with his master to voyage down the great 
river he was as fine a specimen of a full-blooded 
bull-dog as could be found in the country. He 
was pure white, bow-legged, and broad-chested. 
His upper lip was drawn slightly back, so as to 
display his teeth ; but this expression of ferocity 
was relieved by the almost human intelligence of 
his eyes. He was absolutely fearless, but as lov- 
ing and gentle as he was brave. He understood 
every word spoken within his hearing, and his 
master declared that for his wisdom he ought to 
be named “ Solomon.” He never made an un- 
provoked assault upon a living creature, and would 
stand any amount of abuse from children or those 
weaker than himself. Let an indignity be offered 
to his beloved master in his presence, though, and 
his fury was as terrible as that of a young lion. 


A Story of the Great River. 83 

Then woe to the unfortunate in whose flesh those 
gleaming teeth were once fastened. From the 
vise-like grip of the powerful jaws behind them 
nothing but death or Billy Brackett’s command 
could effect a release. 

Such were the occupants of the skiff that soon 
after dusk shot out from the mouth of the Caspar 
Creek on the broad bosom of thp great river. 
Billy Brackett talked to his dog as he would to a 
human companion, and at that moment he was 
saying : 

“Look here, Bim, I’ve a great mind to play a 
joke on that young nephew of ours when we find 
him. You see, he won’t know us from Adam, 
and probably doesn’t remember that he has an 
Uncle William in the world. Now what is to hin- 
der us from working the stranger racket on him ? 
Wrecked, or broke, or something, and want to earn 
a passage down the river on a raft, it being easier 
as well as more sociable and pleasanter in every 
way than a steamboat. What’s to hinder us from 
doing it, eh? Nothing? Bight you are, old dog, 
and we’ll do it, too, if we get the chance. Thus 
will we discover what sort of stuff he is made of, 
and get acquainted with his inside self, as Glen 
Eddy used to say. So you understand, U-Bim, 
that you are not to give us away or let on that we 
are any kin to the Caspars. Sabe f All right. 


llaftmates : 


8Jf 

Now for a twenty-mile spin down-stream, and then 
we’ll hunt a place to lie by for the night.” 

With this the young man bent lustily to his 
oars, while Bim sat in the stern of the skiff, alert 
to every movement made by his master, and sway- 
ing his body like that of a genuine cockswain. 

Billy Brackett recognized the “ Slant Crossing,” 
when they reached it, from the description he had 
received of its length and direction ; but below 
that point the river for a thousand miles was a 
blank so far as his personal knowledge of it was 
concerned. 

Although the night was dark, and there were 
but few guide-lights on the river in those days, he 
found no difficulty in keeping the channel until 
the skiff passed through the chute at the head of 
Winn’s island. At this point the false channel 
seemed, in the darkness, to be as wide and desir- 
able as the true one, and for a minute he was 
puzzled as to which he should take. “ Not that I 
suppose it would make any great difference,” he 
remarked to Bim. “ It’s about time to tie up, 
though, and we want to be sure to do that on the 
main channel, so as not to miss a chance of seeing 
the raft at daylight.” 

For answer Bim left his seat, ran to the bow of 
the boat, uttered a short bark, and fixed his gaze 
pointedly down-stream. 


85 


A Story of the Great River. 

“ A light, as sure as you are a dog of wisdom !” 
cried Billy Brackett, looking in the direction thus 
indicated. “ I vow, Bim, your name ought to be 
‘Solomon Minerva,’ and I must have a ‘howl’ 
engraved on your collar the first chance I get. 
That is, if you ever arrive at the dignity of owning 
any collar besides that old strap. Your light looks 
as though it might proceed from a camp-fire, and 
I reckon it’s on the main channel too. At any 
rate, we’ll pull down there and make inquiries.” 

A few minutes later the skiff was run ashore 
near the beacon blaze that Winn Caspar had left 
on the eastern side of the island, and its occupants 
were searching the vicinity for those whom Billy 
Brackett had so confidently expected to find 
near it. 

“It is very strange,” he muttered. “ Some one 
must have built this fire ; but w T hy he did so if he 
didn’t want to camp beside it beats me. Hello ! 
What’s this ? Hooray ; we are on the right track 
after all ! But what foolishness is that boy up to ? 
and what can he be doing on this island ? Thirdly, 
where is the raft? Eh, Bim ! You haven’t seen 
a stray raft round here, have you? Ho. I thought 
you would have mentioned it if you had. So 
he is on this island is he ? and leaves word that 
we can find him by following the trail ? Perhaps 
the trail leads to the raft ; but where is the trail ? 


86 


Raftmates : 

Hello ! you’ve struck it, have you ? Good dog ! 
Here, let me tie this bit of twine to your collar. 
There ; now you’re better than a lantern.” 

As we all know, the trail upon which Billy 
Brackett and Bim were thus started led directly 
to the log-hut in the forest. When the former 
discovered this, he fully expected to find his 
nephew within. To his surprise, although a fire 
smouldered on the hearth, there was no other sign 
of human occupancy. Then the young man 
searched in vain for some bit of writing, such as 
had guided him to this point. 

“ I declare !” he exclaimed at length ; “ the 
corollary is worse than the theorem, and things are 
becoming so decidedly mixed that we must begin 
to go slow. I for one propose to replenish that 
fire, and then bunk down right here for the rest of 
the night.” 

With this the young man went out into the 
darkness and began groping about for wood with 
which to keep up the fire until morning. 

In the mean time, Bim, left to his own devices, 
had struck the trail leading from the hut to Winn’s 
camp, and started along it, probably thinking that 
his master was following him as before. The dog 
soon discovered Winn, and undertook to establish 
friendly relations with him by rubbing his cold 
nose against the boy’s cheek. The suddenness 


87 


A Story of the Great River. 

with which Winn started up caused the dog to 
spring back into the darkness, from the shelter of 
which he regarded his new acquaintance distrust- 
fully. Just then Billy Brackett, to cheer the 
loneliness of his log-hut, began to chant the ballad 
of “ The Baldheaded Man,” and Bim, hearing his 
master’s voice, darted off in that direction. 

Now Billy Brackett, though very fond of music, 
and possessed of an inextinguishable longing to 
produce melodious sounds, could not sing any 
more than Bim could. His efforts in this line had 
so often been greeted with derisive shouts and 
unkind remarks by his engineering comrades that 
he no longer attempted to sing in public. When 
alone, however, and out of hearing of his fellows, 
he still sometimes broke forth into song. Bim 
always howled in sympathy, but the effect of their 
combined efforts had never been so surprising as 
upon the present occasion, when they caused the 
precipitate flight from the island of the very 
nephew for whom the young engineer was 
searching. 

In blissful ignorance of this unfortunate result 
of their performance, Billy Brackett and Bim sang 
and howled in concert, until their repertory was 
exhausted, when they lay down on the floor of the 
hut, and with the facility of those to whom camp 
life has become a second nature, were quickly asleep. 


88 Baftmates : A Story of the Great Biver. 

From this slumber Billy Brackett was startlingly 
awakened, some time later, by Bim’s bark, and a 
pistol shot that rang out from the profound still- 
ness of the forest like a thunder-clap. He grasped 
the dog’s collar and sat up. Before he could rise 
any farther there came a roar of guns, a trampling 
of feet, a confusion of voices, a rush, and a crashing 
of wood. The next instant the door of his hut was 
burst in, and the room was filled with armed men, 
every one of whom seemed to be pointing a rifle 
or a pistol straight at his devoted head. 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE TRAPPERS TRAPPED. 

When the leader of the party by whom Winn 
had been made prisoner (as related in the last chap- 
ter but one) peered cautiously in at the open win- 
dow of the log-hut to make certain that it was oc- 
cupied, he was disappointed to discover but one 
man, where he had confidently expected to find 
several. 

This leader, who had told Winn that his name was 
Eiley, was a Sheriff, though such a new one that 
this was his first important undertaking since as- 
suming office. Consequently he was most anxious 
for its success, and also somewhat nervous from 
anxiety. He had laid his plans well, the hut was 
completely surrounded, and he was elated at the 
thought of the prize so surely within his grasp, as 
well as of the glory that would be his for effecting 
this important capture. He expected to find sev- 
eral men in the hut, and counted upon their being 
desperate characters who would make a stout re- 
sistance before yielding themselves prisoners. The 
Sheriff had therefore prepared his followers for a 


90 


Baftmates : 

fight, and made all his arrangements with this in 
prospect. Now, to discover but one man, and he 
peacefully sleeping, caused these warlike prepara- 
tions to appear ridiculous, and called for a decided 
modification of Mr. Riley’s plans. 

Having satisfied himself by a careful survey that 
the man had no companions, and that the hut con- 
tained no rifles nor other fire-arms, the Sheriff re- 
tired noiselessly from the window and rejoined 
his followers. He explained the situation in a 
whisper, and then proposed that as they could not 
fight a single unarmed man, they should paralyze 
him with terror. As the Sheriff expressed it, they 
would “ scare him stiff ” by a general discharge of 
guns, a yell, and a rush for the door. These were 
to follow a signal that he would give from his post 
at the open window, through which he would 
cover the sleeping man with his revolver. 

The new programme being understood, the Sher- 
iff returned to his station, pointed his pistol at 
Billy Brackett’s head, and was about to order him 
to throw up his hands and surrender, when he 
made a slight movement that aroused Bim. This 
faithful sentinel sprang up with a loud bark. In 
the dim light Sheriff Riley had not noticed the 
dog, and he was so much upset by this unexpected 
challenge that his finger closed on the hair-trigger 
of his revolver. Fortunately his aim was so wild 


91 


A Story of the Great River. 

that no harm was done by the shot that followed. 
It was all the signal that the Sheriffs followers 
needed, and they immediately carried out their 
part of the programme to the letter. 

When the tumult subsided, the situation was as 
already described. Billy Brackett sat on the floor, 
grasping Bim’s collar, and awaiting further devel- 
opments as calmly as though he were merely a 
disinterested spectator of this unique performance. 
The dog, with teeth displayed to an alarming ex- 
tent, stood ready to fly at the invaders whenever 
he should be released. In front of this group, and 
a few paces from it, stood half a dozen men, all of 
whom held guns that were pointed at the young 
engineer. The form of the Sheriff, with pistol still 
levelled at his prisoner, appeared at the open 
window. 

“ Do you surrender V 9 he demanded. 

“ Certainly,” replied Billy Brackett, cheerfully ; 
“ if you desire it. Pm always ready to accommo- 
date, especially when it’s no trouble to do so.” 

“ Throw up your hands, then,” commanded the 
Sheriff. 

“ To do that,” argued the prisoner, without mov- 
ing, “ I shall be obliged to let go my hold of this 
bull-dog. The moment I do so our friends with 
the empty guns will be apt to fancy that about a 
yard of particularly hot and well-greased lightning 


92 Raftmates : 

has been forged for their especial benefit. Still, if 
you insist — ” 

“Oh, hang your dog!” exclaimed Mr. Riley. 
“You must hold on to him, of course, until we 
can find a rope to tie him with. Where are your 
pals ?” 

“This is the only one I have at present,” an- 
swered Billy Brackett, indicating Bim by a glance ; 
“but I am in search of another, and have reason 
to believe that he is on this island at this very 
minute. Haven’t seen anything of him, have 
you ? He is a young fellow, about sixteen, named 
Caspar, son of Major Caspar, of Caspar’s Mill, up 
the river a bit. *He left home yesterday on a 
raft, and I was to join him hereabouts.” 

“ What sort of a raft ?” asked the Sheriff. 

“Big timber raft. Two sweeps at each end, 
and three shanties on it, two of them filled with 
wheat.” 

“ No,” replied Mr. Riley, in a relieved tone ; for 
on hearing the well-known name of Caspar his men 
had exchanged meaning looks and smiles, which 
indicated their belief that the Sheriff might be 
getting into hot-water. “ I did arrest a young 
rascal of about that age half an hour ago,” he con- 
tinued, “just as he was leaving this island on a 
raft ; but it was only a small affair, built of two 
or three logs, and not at all such a raft as you 


98 


A Story of the Great River. 

describe. I’ve got the boy out here now, and I 
believe him to be one of your pals, in spite of 
your cheeky talk. You don’t want to give me 
any more of it, either,” he concluded, in a fierce 
tone, assumed to reassert the dignity of his office. 
“So just cork up, and come along quietly, or you 
may find yourself in trouble.” 

“All right,” replied Billy Brackett, calmly; 
“ but first, perhaps you’ll be kind enough to tell 
me who you are, why you are taking such an in- 
terest in me, and where you want me to go.” 

“I am the Sheriff of Dubuque County, Iowa,” 
was the answer. “ I have a warrant for your 
arrest as a member of the most dangerous gang of 
counterfeiters that has ever operated in this sec- 
tion of country, and I want you to go with me 
to the county jail, which will be only a stopping- 
place on your journey to State-prison.” 

“ I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. 
Sheriff, and obliged for your courtesy,” said Billy 
Brackett, politely. “ How if you will do me the 
favor to read the names mentioned in your war- 
rant, I shall have nothing further to request.” 

“William Gresham, alias Gilder, et dl.f re- 
plied Mr. Biley. 

“ Good. But suppose I can prove to you that I 
am not the person you take me to be, and that my 
name is neither Gresham nor Gilder, et al ., but 


9Jf Raftmates : 

that I am a civil engineer, William Brackett by 
name, brother-in-law of Major Caspar, whom I am 
certain you must know, and that you are making 
a rather sizable mistake in connection with this 
business. Supposing, also, I state that I am just 
now engaged on an important mission which will 
not admit of delay, and that in case you insist on 
taking me to jail, I can and will make you suffer, 
even to the extent of losing your office. 

By this time Billy Brackett was standing up, 
while Bim, reluctantly obeying his stern com- 
mand, lay motionless at his feet. The men of the 
Sheriff’s posse had ceased to level their guns at 
the young engineer, and even Mr. Riley was so 
impressed with this bold attitude and declaration 
of innocence that he consented to come inside the 
hut and examine the papers offered for his inspec- 
tion. He was about to declare his satisfaction 
with them, and admit that perhaps he had made 
a mistake, when the man whom he had left to 
guard Winn rushed up with the announcement 
that his prisoner had escaped. 

At this the Sheriff’s face clouded angrily. “ W e’ll 
find him if he is still on the island !” he exclaimed. 
“If he has left it we’ll follow him; and, at any 
rate, Mr. Brackett, I must now insist upon your 
coming to Dubuque, where you will be granted 
every opportunity for proving what you please. 



“ * WATCH HIM, him!’ " 


4 











95 


A Story of the Great River. 

In the mean time, you and I will await here the 
result of the search for the escaped prisoner that 
my men will at once proceed to make.” 

To this Billy Brackett returned no answer, but 
stood silently considering how he should avoid 
the vexatious delay that now appeared inevitable. 
While he was thus cudgelling his brains, one of the 
searching party returned to report that the skiff 
in which they had come up the river was missing. 

The Sheriff became furious. “ I don’t believe 
it !” he cried. “ Here, you ! Stop and guard this 
prisoner, while I go and take charge of the search 
myself.” 

As Mr. Riley departed, the new guard entered 
the hut, leaned his rifle against the wall, and took 
a seat near the door. 

Then Billy Brackett stooped and whispered to his 
ever-faithful comrade, “Watch him, Bim !” and the 
dog answered with a low growl that spoke volumes. 
Turning to the guard the young engineer said, 
“My friend, if you make the slightest motion or 
shout for help, that bull -dog will fly at your 
throat. I am going to leave you alone with him 
for a minute, and as you value your life, I beg of 
you to keep perfectly quiet until you hear from 
me.” With this the prisoner leaped lightly from 
the window and disappeared. 

For two minutes the guard sat as motionless 


96 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . 

as though carved from stone, his fascinated gaze 
fixed on the gleaming teeth and bloodshot eyes 
of the bull-dog that stood rigidly before him. 
Then a shrill whistle rang out on the still air, 
and at its sound the dog, dashing past him, dis- 
appeared like a flash. In another minute Billy 
Brackett’s lusty strokes were sending his own 
skiff dancing out towards the middle of the main 
channel, while Bim, thumping with his tail in 
appreciation of his master’s praises, occupied the 
stern seat as calmly as though with him such 
events as those just recorded were of every-day 
occurrence. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


WINN’S LONELY CRUISE. 

During the half-hour that Winn allowed to 
elapse before he considered it safe to rise from his 
recumbent position in the bottom of the skiff, he 
had ample opportunity to recover his breath, and 
reflect upon the new situation into which he had 
been so strangely forced. At first he fancied that 
he heard sounds of pursuit, and momentarily 
expected to be greeted by a stern order from the 
bank to bring the skiff ashore. He wondered if a 
failure to comply would be followed by a rifle- 
shot, and then began to calculate the chances of 
being hit in such a case. But why should he be 
shot at ? What had he done that he should be 
arrested, threatened with jail and hanging, and 
treated like an outlaw generally ? Whom did these 
men take him for ? and who were they ? By the 
manner in which they had spoken of a judge, they 
must represent the law in some way ; but why he 
should be an object of their pursuit puzzled the 
boy more than a little. 

To be sure, he had now laid himself open to the 
7 


98 Raftmates : 

suspicion of being a river thief, by carrying off 
their skiff. Would it not be well to return it at 
once ? He could talk to them, and explain how he 
happened to be on the island, while still at such a 
distance from shore as to be beyond their reach. 
They might shoot, though, and if they really con- 
sidered him the rascal they pretended, it was 
almost certain that they would. Ho, that plan 
would not work. The only thing left to be done 
was to take the skiff to Dubuque, telegraph to his 
father from there, or try and find one of the 
Major’s friends in that city who would do so for 
him, and at the same time provide him with food 
and shelter until his father came. Yes, that was 
the best plan. 

Having reached this determination, Winn sat 
up and looked about him. The light which he 
had mistaken for dawn was that of a late-rising 
moon, and it hardly penetrated the mist hanging 
low over the river. There was nothing in sight ; 
not even the dark mass of timber on the island. 
Winn might have been in the middle of the ocean 
for all that he could see or hear. Never in his 
life had the boy felt so utterly forsaken and alone. 
He decided to pull diagonally across the current 
towards shore, the mere sight of which would be 
reassuring. But where were the oars ? Until 
this moment he had not noticed that there were 


99 


A Story of the Great River. 

none in the boat. For some unknown reason they 
had been taken from it when the party landed on 
the island ; and now the lonely navigator was utterly 
without the means of propelling or even guiding 
his craft. He tried to tear up one of the floor 
boards, with the idea of using it as a paddle; but it 
was nailed in place so firmly as to resist his utmost 
efforts. Finally, faint for want of food, exhausted, 
and disheartened, the poor boy threw himself in 
the bottom of the skiff and yielded to his despair. 
At length he fell asleep. 

So the dawn of Winn’s second day on the river 
caught him napping, as the first had done. In its 
gray light the skiff drifted past the little city of 
Dubuque, perched high on the bluffs of the western 
bank, but no one saw it. There were several 
steamboats and trading scows tied to the narrow 
levee, but their crews were still buried in slumber. 
Even had they been awake they would hardly 
have noticed the little craft far out in the stream, 
drifting with the hurrying waters. In a few min- 
utes it was gone, and the sleeping city was none 
the wiser for its passing. So for hours it drifted, 
now bow on, then broadside to, and as often stern 
first ; here caught and spun round by an eddy, 
then tossed aside and allowed to proceed on its un- 
pfuided course. The cotton-woods on the tow- 
heads beckoned to it with their trembling fingers ; 


L of C. 


100 Rafimates : 

but it paid no heed. Grim snags lay in wait for 
it, but it nimbly avoided them, and as the hours 
passed each one of them saw the drifting skill 
some miles farther away from the island at which 
this strange voyage was begun. 

When Winn finally awoke, he was so bewildered, 
and so much at a loss to account for his surround- 
ings, that for a minute he lay motionless, collecting 
his scattered senses. It certainly was late in the 
day, for the sun was shining full upon him from 
high in the heavens. He had that comfort at 
least ; but oh ! how he ached from lying on that 
hard floor, and how faint he was from hunger. 

The boy’s head rested on a thwart, and he faced 
the after-end of the skiff. As he was about to 
rise, his glance fell on something wrapped in news- 
paper and tucked under the stern seat. If it 
should only prove to be food of any description, 
“even burned mush,” thought Winn, grimly, how 
happy it would make him ! In another second he 
was undoing, with eager fingers, the lunch of 
crackers and cheese that Sheriff Riley’s wife had 
so thoughtfully thrust into her husband’s hands as 
he left the house the morning before, and which 
he had as thoughtfully tucked under the stern 
seat of his skiff. He was probably thinking of 
it, and wishing he had it, at this very moment. 
As for Winn, he was eating it as fast as possible, 


101 


A Story of the Great River. 

and thinking that he had never tasted such good 
crackers or such a fine piece of cheese in his life. 
With each mouthful his spirits rose and his strength 
returned, until, when the last crumb had disap- 
peared and been washed down with a double hand- 
ful of sweet river-water, the boy’s pluck and cheer- 
fulness were fully restored. 

Now what should he do ? He did not know 
that he had passed Dubuque, though he feared 
that such might be the case. Thinking of it 
brought to mind the island with those upon whom 
he had so recently turned the tables, and left as 
prisoners within its limits. He even laughed 
aloud as he pictured them toiling, as he had toiled 
the evening before, to construct a raft on which to 
escape. “ I wonder if they found any one in that 
log-hut,” he thought, recalling its lighted window. 
“ And, oh ! if it should have been father ! It might 
have been. He might have seen my signal-fire, 
found my message, and got as far as the hut. Now 
what will he do ? Oh, how I wish I could get 
back ! Why didn’t I think of all this before 
leaving the island? That was a horrid sound in 
the woods, though. And that animal ! I wonder 
what it could have been ?” 

By this time the current had carried the skiff 
close in to the drowned bottom-lands of the Illinois 
shore. They were covered with a heavy growth 


102 Raftmates : 

of timber, and Winn knew that in many places the 
wellnigh impassable swamps which this concealed 
extended back a mile or more from the channel. 
Otherwise he would have abandoned the skiff and 
made the attempt to swim ashore. 

The Iowa bluffs rose invitingly on the opposite 
side of the river. On them he saw a few scattered 
settlements, but they were too far away, and he 
must wait until the current set him in that direc- 
tion before thinking of making a landing. He saw 
an occasional ferry-boat making its slow way across 
the river, but it was always either too far above him 
or too far below him for his signals to be noticed, 
and so the hours dragged on until it was late after- 
noon, and Winn was again beginning to feel the 
pangs of hunger. 

“ I can’t spend another night in this wretched 
boat !” he exclaimed aloud, when he saw that the 
sun was within an hour of its setting. “ I’ll swim 
the whole width of the river first !” 

During the day he had passed a number of small 
islands, but had not cared to attempt a landing on 
them. He knew that he would be even vrorse off 
on an island than in the skiff, and so he had 
watched them glide by without giving them any 
particular thought. Suddenly it occurred to him 
that on any one of these islands he might pick up 
an oar, a paddle, or at least something that would 


108 


A Story of the Great River. 

answer in place of these, and from that instant 
they acquired a new interest. 

The next one that he approached was only a 
tow-head, which is a sand-bar on which has sprung 
up a thick growth of slender cotton - woods, or 
other quick-sliooting, water-loving trees. 

“ I might find what I want there as well as on 
a larger island,” thought Winn, “and, at any rate, 
I’ll make a try for it.” So when the skiff had 
drifted as near the tow-head as it seemed likely to, 
and was rapidly sliding past it, the boy threw off 
his coat, kicked off his shoes, and, taking one end 
of the skiff’s painter with him, plunged overboard 
and began to swim towards the desired point. 

The distance was not more than a hundred feet, 
but the current swept him down so much more 
rapidly than he expected that he was barely able 
to catch one of the very last of the tow-head sap- 
lings and cling to it. While his own progress was 
thus checked, that of the skiff was not, and in a 
second the painter was jerked from his hand. 

Exhausted as he was, Winn was on the point of 
letting go his hold on the sapling and making a 
desperate effort to overtake the rapidly receding 
skiff. Fortunately he had enough praptical sense, 
though this is not generally credited to sixteen- 
year-old boys, to restrain him from such a rash act. 
So he crawled out on the sand beach, and sat there 


lOJf Baftmates : A Story of the Great River . 

watching what he considered to be his only hope 
grow smaller and smaller until it finally disap- 
peared. As it did so, the sun slowly sank behind 
the western bluffs; and though the boy did not 
look up from the wet sand on which he had flung 
himself, he knew instinctively that another night, 
with its darkness, its chill, and its nameless terrors, 
was upon him. 

He was so numbed by this latest disaster that 
he had not the heart even to seek a place of 
shelter for the night. What good would anything 
that he could find or construct do him? He had 
neither matches nor food, dry clothing nor bedding. 
What did it matter, though ? He would probably 
be dead before the sun rose again, anyway. So the 
poor lad nursed his misery, and might, in truth, 
have lain on those wet sands until he perished, so 
despairing was he, when all at once he was aroused 
by a sound so strange to hear in that place that, 
though he raised his head to listen, he thought he 
must be dreaming. He wasn’t, though, for there 
came again to his ears, as distinct as anything ever 
heard in his life, a merry peal of clear girlish 
laughter. Hot only that, but it sounded so close 
at hand that the boy sprang to his feet and gazed 
eagerly in the direction from which it came, fully 
expecting to see its author standing near him. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A PEAL OF GIRLISH LAUGHTER. 

In vain did Winn gaze in every direction, up 
and down the river, across its darkening waters, 
and into the shadowy thicket behind him. There 
were no objects in sight, save those with which he 
was already only too familiar. Again he began to 
doubt the evidence of his senses, and wonder if his 
mind had not become somewhat unsettled by his 
misfortunes. But no, there was the ringing peal 
of laughter again. This time it was accompanied 
by a strange chattering sound such as he had never 
heard before. At the same moment a most de- 
licious whiff of frying bacon reached the hungry 
boy, mingled with the unmistakable and equally 
enticing odor of coffee. There was no doubt as to 
the direction from which these came, and plunging 
into the cotton-wood thicket, Winn made his way 
diagonally up and across the tow-head. 

In less than a minute he reached its opposite 
side, where he halted to gaze with amazement at the 
very strangest-looking craft he had ever seen. At 
first he thought it a small stern- wheeled steamboat. 


106 Raftmates : 

She certainly had such a wheel, but then there 
was no chimney. Perhaps she was a trading- 
scow. Who ever heard, though, of a trading- 
scow with a pilot-house such as this nondescript 
craft had on the forward end of its upper deck? 
Besides, there were no sweeps, nor was she in the 
least like any trading-scow Winn had ever seen. 
A low house occupied her entire width, and ex- 
tended along her whole length except at the curve 
of her bows, where there was room left for a small 
deck. A structure with a door and windows, that 
was somewhat larger than the pilot-house, rose 
from the upper deck near its after-end. There 
were three doors on each side of the main house, 
a large one well forward, a small one nearly amid- 
ship, and another large one well aft. There were 
also six small windows on each side, and from 
three of those nearest Winn a cheerful light was 
streaming, while the other three were dark. 
There was a name painted on the boat’s side in 
such large black letters that even in the fading 
twilight Winn managed to read it — “ W-H-A- T- 
N-O-T ,” he spelled slowly — “Whatnot! Well, 
if that isn’t the queerest name for a boat I ever 
heard of !” 

Just then, however, there were things of far 
greater importance to a boy in his situation than 
queer names. The tantalizing odors that were 


107 


A Story of the Great River. 

pouring from that after-window, for instance, and 
the sound of voices that rang out merrily from 
the two just beyond it. The boat was moored to 
a tree, with her bows pointed up-stream, and had 
swung in so close to shore that by standing on a 
half-submerged log, which served as a fender to 
keep her off a few feet from the bank, Winn 
could look into one of the open windows. It was 
evidently that of the galley, for the odor of frying 
came from it, and half hidden in a cloud of fra- 
grant steam was the form of a negro bending over 
a small stove. 

This was a welcome and comforting sight ; but 
hungry as he was, Winn’s curiosity was stronger 
than his appetite. He must see into those other 
windows, and discover the source of the merry 
laughter that had so suddenly banished his loneli- 
ness and despair of a few minutes before. Cau- 
tiously advancing a few steps along the slippery 
log, he reached a point that commanded a view of 
the room or compartment next forward of the 
galley. It was of good size, and occupied the en- 
tire width of the boat. 

In the centre of this room was a table spread 
for supper, and beside it, so as to take advantage 
of its bright lamp, was a group that to Winn ap- 
peared both extraordinary and fascinating. A 
white-haired old man was seated before an easel, 


108 Raftmates : 

on which was stretched a large canvas. A young 
girl stood near him watching the movements of 
his brush with deep interest, and at the same time 
evidently restraining, with gentle but firm hands, 
the impatient struggles of something which she 
addressed as “Don Blossom,” but whether it was 
a child or an animal Winn could not see. In his 
effort to do so he stood on tiptoe, and just as 
the old man began to say, “ There, Sabella, that 
will do for this sitting,” the boy’s treacherous 
footing slipped from under him. 

With a half-suppressed cry and a loud splash 
he was plunged headlong into the narrow space 
of water between the boat and the shore. 

A frightened exclamation came from the in- 
terior of the boat, and then the small door on that 
side was flung open. At the same instant a woolly 
head was thrust out of the galley window, and a 
trembling voice cried, “ Golly, Marse Cap’n ! 
Wha’ dat ar? Yo’ heah um ?” 

“ Yes, Solon, I heard it, and you want to come 
here as quick as you can. Some one is in trou- 
ble,” answered the old man, who was standing 
with the girl in the open doorway. He held a 
lamp above his head, and was peering anxiously 
in the direction of the splashings and floun- 
derings that Winn, sitting in the shallow water, 
but tightly wedged between the log and the 



“‘who's there?’ cried the old man 









A Story of the Great River. 109 

boat, was making in his efforts to extricate him- 
self. 

“ Who’s there ?” cried the old man, who could 
not yet make out what was taking place; “and 
what are you doing ?” 

“It’s me!” returned Winn, regardless of his 
grammar ; “ and I am sinking in this awful mud. 
Hurry up and push your boat away from the log, 
or I shall be drowned !” 

While the old man and the negro exerted all 
their strength at the pole, with which they finally 
succeeded in pushing the boat a foot or so out 
into the stream, Sabella was also busy. Though 
greatly excited, and somewhat alarmed by the 
unexpected appearance of a human being in that 
place, and his perilous situation, she still had pres- 
ence of mind enough to run for a rope, one end 
of which she fastened to the table. She carried 
the other end out through the door, and tossed it 
over the side just in time for Winn to catch it, as 
the moving of the boat once more gave him free- 
dom of action. 

Hauling himself up by this welcome rope, and 
at the same time being assisted by the two men, 
the boy quickly gained the open doorway, where 
he stood blinking in the bright lamplight, while 
mud and water ran from him in streams. He 
faced the occupants of the boat, who, standing a 


110 Raftmates : 

few steps back in the room, regarded him with 
undisguised wonder, not un mixed with suspicion. 
On the table behind them stood a small, gaudily- 
dressed object, that Winn at first took to be a 
child. Upon his appearance it remained motion- 
less for a few seconds, and then, with a frightened 
cry, it sprang to the little girl’s shoulder, from 
which it peered at the stranger, chattering angrily 
all the while. 

“ Well, I am blest if this isn’t a most extraordi- 
nary situation !” exclaimed the old man. “ It sug- 
gests a tableau of Yenus rising from the sea.” 

“ Or a alligator,” said the negro. 

Sabella wanted to laugh at the comical spectacle 
presented by the dripping, coatless, hatless, bare- 
footed, and generally woe-begone boy ; but pity- 
ing his evident embarrassment, she exclaimed : 

“ Uncle, how can you ! Don’t you see that he 
is shivering? You must go at once and find him 
some dry clothes. Solon, show this boy to the 
engine-room, where he can change his wet things. 
Don Blossom, be quiet, sir ! Aren’t you ashamed 
of yourself!” Then, turning to Winn with a 
cheery smile, she said, “ We are very sorry for 
your accident, and should like to know all about 
it after you are dry again. If you will go with 
Solon to the engine-room, he will do everything 
he can for you.” 


Ill 


A Sto?'y of the Great River. 

The Captain had already hastened away on his 
quest for dry clothing. As he left the room, Winn 
noticed that he had a wooden leg. It was not one 
of the modern kind, so carefully constructed as 
to closely resemble the real article, but an old- 
fashioned, iron - shod stick of timber strapped to 
his right knee. 

As Sabella finished speaking, she too left the 
room, running after the Captain, andsmiling cheer- 
fully as she went at the mud-streaked boy, who 1 
still stood speechless and motionless in the door- 
way. 

Now, at Solon’s invitation he followed the 
negro into what had been called the engine-room, 
though to Winn’s eye it looked as little like an 
engine-room as any place he had ever known. 
At one side was a horse -power treadmill, such 
as he had often seen used for the sawing of wood. 
Half of it was sunk below the level of the deck, 
and covered with a removable floor. It was gear- 
ed in the most direct and simple manner to a 
shaft that disappeared through the rear wall of 
the room, and presumably connected with the 
stern wheel he had previously noticed. There 
was also a belt extending to a shaft pulley over- 
head, but beyond this there was no trace of ma- 
chinery, nor was there either boiler or furnace. 
There was what looked like a stall at one end of 


112 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . 

the room, but it contained only bales of bay and 
sacks of oats. 

“ Yes, sah, we uses a mewel-ingine when we hab 
um. We hain’t got no mewel at de present time, 
but we ’specs ter contrac’ fer one shortly,” ex- 
plained the negro, noting Winn’s inquiring glances, 
as be assisted him to remove bis wet garments. 

Before the boy bad a chance to ask the ques- 
tions that were at his tongue’s end, he, as well as 
the other occupants of the boat, was startled by a 
loud hail from the river. 

“ Hello ! What steamer is that ?” 

“ The Whatnot, of Dubuque,” was the answer. 

“ Do you know the Sheriff of Dubuque 
County ?” 

“ Who — Kiley ? Yes, I know him.” 

“ Do you know his skiff ?” 

“As well as I know my own boat, for I built 
it.” 

“ Have you seen it pass down the river to-day, 
containing only a boy between sixteen and seven- 
teen years old?” 

“Ho. Haven’t seen it or any other skiff. 
What’s the matter ? Has it been stolen ?” 

“That ’ll do, thank you. Good -night,” came 
the reply, without an answer to this last question, 
and then the stranger passed out of hearing down 
the river. 


CHAPTER XV. 


“ CAP’N COD," SABELLA, AND THE WHATNOT. 

In order to explain the presence beside that 
tow-head of the queer craft on board which Winn 
had found shelter, and of its several occupants, who 
were making such kindly efforts to relieve his dis- 
tress, it is necessary to take a twenty-year glance 
backward. At that time Aleck Fifield, a Yankee 
jack-of-all-trades, who had been by turns a school- 
teacher, sailor, mechanic, boat-builder, and several 
other things as well, found himself employed as 
stage - carpenter in a Boston theatre. He had 
always been possessed of artistic tastes, though 
they had never carried him beyond sign-painting, 
and of dramatic longings, which had thus far been 
satisfied with a diligent reading of Shakespeare 
and attending the theatre at every opportunity. 
Now, being regularly connected with the stage, 
both these tastes expanded, until through one of 
them he blossomed into a very passable scene- 
painter. Through the other he overwhelmed 
himself with despair, and convulsed an audience 
with laughter, by appearing once, and once only, 
8 


HJf Baftmates : 

as Captain Thomas Codringhampton in the pop- 
ular sea drama of “Blue Billows.” His failure 
as an actor w r as so dismal and complete as to be 
notorious. Unkind comparisons of other bad act- 
ing with that of Cap’n Cod became stock jokes 
in every theatre of the country. From that day 
the stage name clung to him ; and though it galled 
at first, the passage of time soothed the wound, 
until finally Aleck Fifield became proud of the 
name. As he grew older, it represented to him 
the fame for which he had longed when young. 
When the war broke out and he became one of 
the bravest defenders of the Union, he was every- 
where known as “ Cap’n Cod.” After the war, in 
which he managed to lose a leg, he went to Iowa 
to live with his only relative, a widowed niece, 
who had but one child, a little girl. 

Between this child, Sabella, and the white-haired 
veteran, who could tell more tales than a fairy- 
book, and construct more toys than Santa Claus 
ever dreamed of, there sprang up an affection that 
could not have been stronger had they been father 
and daughter. On one side it was based upon 
boundless love and admiration, and on the other 
upon admiration and boundless love. When Sa- 
bella went to school, the Captain’s business kept 
him within sight of the school-house; and when 
school was out, the little girl was nowhere happier 


115 


A Story of the Great River. 

than in his company. For her sake he was the 
friend of her friends, and among the children of 
Dubuque no one was so popular as Cap’n Cod. 
They did not live in the city, but on a small farm 
a few miles from it, and this Cap’n Cod was sup- 
posed to manage. Farming was, however, the 
one occupation for which he had no taste, and 
but for his capable niece the annual crops would 
not have paid the expense of raising them. 

When Sabella was twelve years old and rapidly 
developing into beautiful girlhood, her mother 
died, leaving her and her little property to the 
unrestricted guardianship of Cap’n Cod. Now 
matters went from bad to worse so far as the farm 
was concerned, until, to save it from the hammer, 
it was deemed best to rent it to a more practical 
farmer than the child’s devoted guardian. 

This gave Cap’n Cod the opportunity and an 
excuse for carrying out a cherished scheme that, 
but for the opposition of his niece, he would 
have put into operation long before. It was the 
painting of a panorama, the building of a boat to 
hold it, and thus equipped, to float away down the 
great river in search of fame and fortune. Now Sa- 
bella must of course be included in the plan ; for 
not only did she and Cap’n Cod consider it impos- 
sible to get along without each other, but the 
latter declared that such a bit of travel would be 


116 Raftmates : 

the very best kind of an education for his grand- 
niece. 

This scheme had been in the old man’s mind for 
so long that the panorama, worked on at odd 
moments for more than two years, was nearly 
finished at the time of his niece’s death. With his 
own savings, and largely by his own labor, he now 
built his boat, the Whatnot. When she was com- 
pleted, his money was gone. But what of that? 
Was he not prepared to realize a fortune? He 
knew that it would shortly be theirs, and Sabella’s 
faith was strong as his. She never for a moment 
doubted that her dear guardian was the artist he 
claimed to be, or that the panorama he had painted 
was the most perfect thing of its kind ever seen. 
So she was as enthusiastic concerning the project 
as the old man himself, and eagerly aided in his 
preparations to the full extent of her ability. 
There was but one point on which they disagreed. 
When Cap’n Cod had exhausted his own re- 
sources, and the motive power of the Whatnot 
still remained unprovided, Sabella begged that he 
would draw some of her money from the bank 
and use it, but this the old man firmly declined 
to do. 

“Ho, Sabella,” he would say; “what is mine 
is yours ; but what is yours is your own, and it 
would be as bad as stealing for me to touch it.” 


117 


A Story of the Great River. 

“ But it is mine,” the girl would argue ; “ and 
if I want to give it to you, more than I want to 
do anything else with it, I don’t see why you 
shouldn’t let me.” 

“ No, dear,” her guardian would reply. “ It is 
not yours. It is only held in trust for you until 
you become of age, by which time you will have 
many other uses for money besides gratifying an 
old man’s whim.” 

“ But you will pay it back long before then.” 

“ I might, and then again I might not. There 
is nothing more uncertain than the things we think 
we are sure of.” 

Then the girl would throw her arms about his 
neck and exclaim, “ Oh, you dear old stupid ! 
How horridly honest you are! and what a beau- 
tiful world this would be if everybody in it was 
just like you.” 

u Yes, my dear; Stupidity and Honesty are apt 
to be comrades, and undoubtedly they would 
make a beautiful world if left to themselves ; but 
it would be frightfully dull. Now don’t you 
worry your pretty head about the mule, for we 
can drift with the current until we have given 
two or three exhibitions, and so made money 
enough to buy one. Then, having earned him, 
how much more shall we enjoy him than if he 
were only a borrowed mule ?” 


118 Raftmates : 

Cap’n Cod would have preferred a steamboat 
to one propelled by mule-power, but the expenses 
of machinery and an engineer were too great to be 
considered. He made the Whatnot look as much 
like a steamboat as he could, and even proposed 
ornamenting her with an imitation chimney as 
soon as he could afford such a luxury. He also 
hoped soon to be able to engage some active young 
fellow as deck hand and general assistant. In the 
mean time the Whatnot's crew consisted of himself, 
Sabella,and Solon, an old negro who had been cook 
of the mess to which Cap’n Cod had belonged 
in the army, and who had followed his fortunes 
ever since. 

As nearly every one in Dubuque who was at all 
interested in such things had seen the panorama 
during its painting and construction, and as Cap’n 
Cod’s dramatic reputation was well known there, 
he deemed it advisable to give the first exhibitions 
of his show in some smaller and less critical places. 
He called it a “ show,” because, even at the outset, 
it contained two attractions besides the panorama, 
and he hoped in the course of time to add still 
others. 

Those already on hand were a monkey and a 
hand-organ, both of* which were much greater rar- 
ities in the Mississippi Valley at that time than 
they are now. They formerly belonged to an Ital- 


119 


A Story of the Great River. 

ian, who, sick, penniless, and friendless, had sunk 
exhausted by the road-side a few miles from Du- 
buque. Several persons passed him without heed- 
ing his feeble appeals for aid before Cap’n Cod 
happened along and discovered him. The old sol- 
dier at once engaged a team, carried the dying 
stranger home, and there, with Sabella’s pitying 
aid, cared for him until the end, which came a few 
days later. During these last days his monkey was 
the man’s inseparable companion. It cuddled be- 
side him in bed, and answered his feeble terms of 
endearment with voluble chatterings. With his 
latest breath the dying stranger consigned his help- 
less pet to the same pitying care that had helped 
him over the bitterest of all human journeys. He 
said, “ Monka, Don Bolossi, you keep-a him alway.” 

So Don Bolossi, Americanized to “Don Blos- 
som,” transferred all his affections to Sabella, and 
with the hand-organ, for which no claimant could 
be found, was added to the attractions of “ Cap’n 
Cod’s Great Panoramic Show.” 

One of the Captain’s last bits of work in Du- 
buque was to build a skiff for Sheriff Riley, and 
with the money thus earned to defray immediate 
expenses, the Whatnot started on her voyage down 
the river at sunrise of the very morning on which 
Winn Caspar unconsciously drifted past Dubuque 
in that very skiff. Being deeper in the water, the 


120 Raftmates : A Story of the Great Hirer. 

show-boat drifted somewhat faster than the skiff, 
and so had nearly caught up with it by the time the 
tow-head was reached. Here Cap’n Cod deter- 
mined to tie up for the night, as he did not wish 
to stop at a town until his final preparations for an 
exhibition were made. 

Among these was the painting of a life-sized 
representation of Don Blossom hanging by his tail 
from the limb of a tree, which was to be displayed on 
the outside of the boat as an advertisement. This 
was the labor upon which the Captain was engaged 
when Winn Caspar discovered the Whatnot. Sa- 
bella had undertaken to hold the restless little 
model from which the white-headed artist was 
painting, and the peals of laughter that attracted 
Winn’s attention were called forth by the absurd- 
ities of this situation. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


BIM MAKES AN ENEMY. 

Billy Brackett’s satisfaction at his escape from 
a situation that promised to cause him a vexatious 
delay was tinged with a new anxiety concerning 
Winn. As he pulled swiftly across the river, so 
as to be lost to view from the island as quick- 
ly as possible, he expressed his feelings aloud 
to Bim : 

“What new scrape can that young rascal have 
got into now — eh, old dog ? It was bad enough to 
start down the river alone on a big raft without 
even bidding his folks good-bye ; but now he seems 
to have lost the raft somewhere, to have landed on 
that island, to have been arrested for something, to 
have escaped, and to have run off with the Sheriff’s 
boat. It looks as though he had the same happy 
faculty for getting into scrapes that distinguished 
my young friend Glen Eddy. Somehow I have a 
fellow-feeling for such boys. It is strange, too, for 
I can’t remember ever getting into any scrapes 
myself. We must put a stop to it, though, in 
Winn’s case. It will never do for him to be cavort- 


122 Raftmates : 

ing about in this scandalous manner, so long as we 
are responsible for his decent behavior and safe 
return. We shall surely find him, and probably 
the raft also, at Dubuque. Then we will take our 
nephew in hand, and by simple force of example 
instruct him in that dignity of deportment that 
steers clear of scrapes. Eh, Bimsey ?” 

At this Bim sprang from his seat, and made 
such a violent effort to lick his master’s face that 
the latter was very nearly tumbled over backward. 
By the time order was restored, daylight was be- 
ginning to appear, and the young man saw that he 
was far enough below the island for it to be safe 
to again cross the river and head for Dubuque. 
He reached this place soon after sunrise, or about 
an hour after Winn passed it, and a few minutes 
after the departure of the WhaPnot. 

A hasty inspection of the various craft lining 
the water-front of the city convinced him that 
the raft was not among them. He found several 
persons who knew Sheriff Biley’s skiff, but none 
of them had seen it that morning. This, however, 
did not discourage the young engineer, for a skiff 
is so much smaller than a raft as to be easily over- 
looked. He would make a more thorough search 
after visiting the hotel, where he hoped Winn 
might also have gone for breakfast. 

On his way he stopped at the telegraph office, 


m 


A Story of the Great River . 

and sent the following despatch to both Mrs. Cas- 
par and to the Major at Madison : 

“Have heard of Winn, and am on his track. 
The boy is all right. W. B.” 

“That is true so far as it goes,” soliloquized 
Billy Brackett, “ and will relieve their present 
anxiety. By to-morrow, or perhaps within a few 
minutes, I shall certainly have something more 
definite to wire.” 

At the hotel he was greatly disappointed to find 
no trace of the missing lad, and after eating a 
hearty breakfast he made a thorough search of 
the water-front, though of course without avail. 
He had intended dropping a hint here and there 
of the predicament in which he had left Sheriff 
Riley and his followers, but on second thoughts 
concluded to let them work out their own plan of 
escape from the island, rather than run the risk of 
further delay. 

By noon he was ready to depart from Dubuque, 
satisfied that there was no information to be gained 
in that place concerning either Winn or the raft. 
Although he was not discouraged, he was puzzled, 
and was even beginning to feel anxious at the 
strange aspect this affair of the lost Venture was 
assuming. 

Until sunset he rowed steadily and swiftly down- 


12Jf. Raftmates : 

stream, hailing the ferrymen as he passed, and 
stopping at the settlements on both sides of the 
river to make inquiries. He also hailed passing 
boats, and boarded several rafts that he discovered 
tied to the western bank, but all in vain. He 
failed to learn anything about Winn, and heard 
that but one raft had passed down the river the 
day before. It was described as having a single 
“ shanty,” a tent, and a crew of three men. As that 
was not the kind of a raft he was looking for, this 
information only added to the young man’s per- 
plexity. It never occurred to him that the raft 
might have been stolen and disguised. So, as he 
was certain he had not passed it, there was but one 
solution to the problem. The Venture must have 
been wrecked and gone to pieces during the 
storm of that first night, and Winn must have 
escaped to the island. 

Even with this explanation the mystery of 
Winn’s second disappearance remained as great as 
ever, and by the time Billy Brackett hailed the 
Whatnot , as has already been noted, he was as 
thoroughly bewildered as ever in his life. Nor 
could he decide on any plan of action that seemed 
in the least satisfactory. He knew there was 
a town a mile or so below where the Whatnot 
lay, and there he had determined to spend the 
night. But for his desire to reach this place be- 


125 


A Story of the Great River . 

fore darkness should wholly shut in, he would 
have boarded the Whatnot merely to gratify the 
curiosity excited by her strange appearance. As 
it was, he felt that he had no time to spare, and so 
hastened on. 

It was quite dark as he approached the lights 
marking the town he was seeking ; but as he drew 
near he discovered what appeared like a part of 
the levee slowly moving out from shore. Above 
it rose dimly a white object that he had taken 
for a house, and still above this shown a lantern. 
In a moment he saw that it was a raft resuming its 
voyage down the river, and he determined to make 
an inquiry from its crew before landing. 

Pulling his skiff alongside, the young man 
sprang aboard. As he did so he noticed that the 
white object was a tent, and that there was a single 
“shanty ” amidship. It was the very raft that had 
been described to him as being the only one to 
pass down the river the day before. These details 
so occupied his attention that he did not notice a 
skiff made fast to the side of the raft just forward, 
of where he tied his own. Not seeing it, he did 
not, of course, ask any questions concerning it. 
If he had, he might have learned that the raftsmen 
had just picked it up, floating, empty and owner- 
less, down the river. There had been no oars in 
it, but they had rowed it to the raft with an extra 


126 Raftmates : 

pair from their own skiff. In their preparations 
for departure they had not yet found time to ex- 
amine it, and knew nothing of its contents. 

As Billy Brackett walked towards the “ shanty,” 
there was a sudden commotion at its entrance. A 
gruff voice exclaimed, 

“ Get out of here, you cur !” 

This command was evidently accompanied by a 
savage kick, which was immediately followed by 
a yell and a heavy fall as Bim’s white teeth sank 
deep in the calf of one of Mr. Plater’s legs. 

The dog, tired of his long confinement in the 
skiff, had eagerly leaped aboard the raft, and with 
friendly inquisitiveness had poked his nose into 
the open doorway of the “ shanty ” just as Plater 
was emerging from it. 

Bim’s master realized in a moment what had 
happened, and sprang to the scene just as two 
other figures came running in the same direction 
from the forward end of the raft. 

Mr. Plater, though on his back, had nearly suc- 
ceeded in drawing a pistol from his hip pocket. 
In a few seconds more poor Bim’s earthly career 
would have been ended, but his owner’s move- 
ments were quick enough to save him, and before 
the pistol could be drawn, Billy Brackett had seized 
the dog’s collar. 

“ Let go, sir !” he ordered, sternly, and Bim in- 


1$7 


A Story of the Great River . 

stantly obeyed the command. Then realizing that 
discretion is the better part of valor when the odds 
are three to one, the young engineer, with the dog 
in his arms, ran to the side of the raft, sprang into 
the skiff, and shoved off. He was followed by a 
storm of threats and angry imprecations, at which 
he only smiled, as he took to his oars and pulled 
through the friendly darkness towards the landing 
from which the raft had already drifted quite a 
distance. 

Making his way to the wharf-boat, and giving 
the watchman a quarter to look out for his skiff 
until morning, Billy Brackett, weary and disheart- 
ened, sought such accommodation as the only hotel 
of the little town afforded. All night he tossed 
sleeplessly on his uncomfortable bed, striving in 
vain to unravel the mystery in which the fate of 
his nephew and of Major Caspar’s raft had be- 
come enshrouded. 

In the morning he strolled undecidedly down to 
the wharf-boat, and, missing his skiff, asked the 
watchman, who was just going off duty, what he 
had done with it. 

“Why, there it is, sir, just where you left it,” 
answered the man, in a surprised tone, pointing to 
a skiff that Billy Brackett was certain he had never 
seen before. 

“ That is not my boat,” he said. 


1%8 Raftmates : A Stm'y of the Great River. 

“ It is the one you came in last night,” answered 
the watchman. “ And here is the coat you left in 
it. I took the liberty of bringing it in out of the 
dew.” 

The young engineer looked at the coat the man 
was holding towards him, and shook his head. 

“ That is not mine, either,” he said. 

“ Whose is it, then ?” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know. You’d better look in 
the pockets. They may contain some clew.” 

Acting upon this suggestion the watchman 
thrust his hand into a breast-pocket of the coat 
and drew forth a note-book. He opened it. 

“Here’s something writ in it,” he said; “but 
as I’m not quick at making out strange writing, 
maybe you’ll read it, sir.” 

Taking the book from the man’s hand, and glan- 
cing carelessly at its title-page, Billy Brackett ut- 
tered a cry of amazement. There, written in a 
clear boyish hand, was the inscription : 

“ Winn Caspar. His Book.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE TRUTH, BUT NOT THE WHOLE TRUTH. 

Winn was greatly perturbed by hearing from 
the Whatnot's engine-room the inquiries concern- 
ing Sheriff Kiley’s skiff, and Cap’n Cod’s, replies. 
He had not meant to steal the boat, of course, but 
it now seemed that he was regarded as having done 
so, and was being hotly pursued by some one in- 
terested in its recovery. It was not the Sheriff 
himself, for the voice was a strange one ; so it was 
probably one of his men, who undoubtedly had one 
or more companions. Winn was too ignorant of 
the world to know whether escaping from a sheriff 
who had unjustly arrested him, and running off 
with his boat, would be considered a serious of- 
fence or not. He only knew that while perfectly 
conscious of his own innocence, he yet felt very 
much as though he were fleeing from justice. He 
had not even known until that minute that his late 
captor was a sheriff, nor could he imagine why he 
had been arrested. What he did know was that 
some one well acquainted with the fact that he had 
taken a skiff not his own was now searching for it 
9 


ISO Haftmates : 

and for him. This was sufficient to alarm him 
and fill his mind with visions of arrest, imprison- 
ment, and fines which his father would be com- 
pelled to pay. 

Then, too, the Captain of this strange craft on 
which he had just found an asylum, but from 
which he would already be glad to escape, had de- 
clared himself to be a friend of Sheriff Riley, and 
well acquainted with his boat. Of course, then, he 
would gladly aid his friend in recovering his prop- 
erty, and would not hestitate to make a prisoner of 
the person who had run off with it. In that case 
he would be taken back to Dubuque in disgrace, 
his father would have to be sent for — and who 
knew where he might be by this time? — and there 
would be a long delay that he would probably 
have to endure in prison. In the mean time what 
would become of the raft lost through his careless- 
ness and self-conceit ? 

Decidedly all this must be prevented if possible; 
and though the boy would have scorned to tell a 
lie even to save his life, he determined to tell as 
little of the truth as would be necessary to answer 
the questions that he knew would shortly be put to 
him. 

While Winn was puzzling over this situation, 
and trying to frame a plausible story that would 
account for his presence on the tow-head without 


181 


A Story of the Great Hirer. 

overstepping the bounds of truth, the door of the 
engine-room opened, and Cap’n Cod stumped in. 
He brought an armful of dry clothing, and was 
beaming with the satisfaction that he always felt 
when engaged in helping any one out of trouble. 

“ Well, my muddy young friend,” he exclaimed, 
good-naturedly, “ how are you getting on ? Has 
Solon taken good care of you ? Here are some 
clothes that, I guess, you will have to make the 
best of until your own can be dried. They prob- 
ably won’t come within a mile of fitting, but 
clothing does not make the man, you know, and we 
are not very critical as to appearances aboard the 
Whatnot. By -the- way, my name is Fifield — Aleck 
Fifield. What did you say yours was?” 

“ I don’t think I said,” answered the boy, slip- 
ping into a woollen shirt many sizes too large for 
him ; “ but it is Winn.” 

“ Winn, eh ? Good name. Belong to the 
Massachusetts Winns ?” 

“ My parents came from there, but I was born 
in Wisconsin.” 

“Yes, yes. Just so. But, there! I musn’t 
hinder you. Supper is ready, and if you haven’t 
any better place to go to, we should be most happy 
to have you join us.” 

“Thank you, sir,” replied Winn. “I shall be 
only too glad to do so, for I haven’t had any 


132 Raftmates : 

supper, and the raft to which I belong has prob- 
ably gone off down the river without me.” 

“ So you belong to a raft, eh ? And what hap- 
pened ? Did you tumble overboard from it ?” 

“ No, sir. I came to this island in the skiff, and 
was trying to make a line fast, when the skiff got 
away from me.” 

“ And they didn’t notice it through the gloom 
until it was too late to do anything, and so you got 
left ! Yes, yes. I see just how it all happened ! 
Such accidents are of common occurrence on the 
river, and you were very fortunate to find us here. 
I shall be delighted to have you for a guest to- 
night, and in the morning your friends will un- 
doubtedly return to look for you.” 

As he thus rattled on in cheery fashion, Cap’n 
Cod gathered up Winn’s wet clothing, prepara- 
tory to taking them to the galley to be dried. 
Not finding either coat or shoes in the water- 
soaked pile, he inquired if the boy had left the 
raft without them. 

“No, sir,” replied Winn; “but I took them off, 
and left them in the skiff.” 

“You did ! That’s bad ; for when your friends 
find the skiff with your clothes in it, they will be 
apt to imagine you are drowned. Then they’ll 
search the river below here for your body, instead 
of coming back to look for you. Never mind, 


133 


A Story of the Great River. 

though,” he added quickly, mistaking the expres- 
sion of relief which this suggestion brought to 
Winn’s face for one of dismay, “we’ll soon re- 
lieve their anxiety. We’ll get a mule, and put 
him in here as quick as our show earns his price. 
Then we’ll go humming down the river faster 
than any raft that ever drifted. We may be 
several days in overtaking them, but I shall be 
only too happy to have you remain with us for 
that length of time, and longer, too, if you will. 
I am greatly in need of an assistant to help me 
run the show. So if you are willing to take hold 
and work with us, the obligation will be wholly on 
my side.” 

“ Of course I will, sir!” exclaimed Winn, whose 
spirits were rising as the difficulties of his situation 
began to disappear. “I will do anything I can, 
only I didn’t know this was a show-boat, and I’m 
afraid I am pretty ignorant about shows any- 
way.” 

“That will be all right,” replied the Captain. 
“ My own experience in the dramatic line has been 
so extensive that I shall have no difficulty in post- 
ing you. I am surprised, though, that you did not 
recognize this boat as having been built by one of 
the profession, and especially adapted to its re- 
quirements. There are certain features about the 
Whatnot — which, by the way, I consider a most 


13 Jf Baftmates : 

original and attractive name — that are intended to 
indicate — ” 

“ Suppah, sah ! An’ Missy Sabel awaitin’,” in- 
terrupted Solon, thrusting his woolly head into 
the doorway at that moment. 

Glad as Winn was of this diversion, and though 
he was as thankful as only a famished boy can be 
that a bountiful meal awaited him, he would will- 
ingly have gone hungry a little longer rather than 
enter that dining-room just then. Although the 
engine-room did not afford a mirror, he was con- 
scious that he must present about as absurd a 
figure as can well be conceived. He was bare- 
footed, and the left leg of his trousers was turned 
up to keep it from the floor, while the right, ow- 
ing to the Captain’s misfortune, barely reached his 
ankle. A checkered woolen shirt hung about him 
in folds, and over it he wore a garment that Cap’n 
Cod was pleased to style his “ professional coat.” 
It was a blue swallow-tail, with bright brass but- 
tons. As worn by Winn the tails hung nearly to 
the floor, the cuffs were turned back over his 
wrists, and the collar rubbed against his ears. 

“ A pretty costume in which to appear before a 
strange girl,” thought poor Winn, who was noted 
at home for being fastidious concerning his dress 
and personal appearance. “ I know I must look 
like a guy, and she can’t help laughing, of course ; 





winn’s introduction to sabella. 




135 


A Story of ike Great River. 

but if she does, I’ll never speak to her as long as I 
live, and I’ll leave this craft the very first chance 
I get.” 

While these thoughts were crowding fast upon 
one another, the boy was being dragged into the 
dining-room by Cap’n Cod, and formally presented 
as “Mr. Winn, of Massachusetts,” to “my grand- 
niece Sabella, sir.” 

Winn will never know whether the girl laughed 
or not, for at that moment Don Blossom, who had 
been seated on the floor daintily nibbling a sweet 
biscuit, sprang chattering to her shoulder and 
buried his face in her hair, as he had done upon 
the boy’s first appearance. This episode formed 
such a seasonable diversion that by the time the 
girl succeeded in freeing herself from the clutches 
of her pet, W inn was seated at the table with the 
most conspicuous portion of his absurd costume 
concealed beneath its friendly shelter. 

During the meal Winn and Sabella exchanged 
furtive glances, which each hoped the other would 
not notice, and the boy, at least, blushed furiously 
whenever one of his was detected. Although 
neither of them said much, the meal was by no 
means a silent one; for the Captain maintained a 
steady and cheerful flow of conversation from its 
beginning to its end. He told Sabella a thrilling 
tale of Winn’s narrow escape from drowning, and 


186 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

how his friends were at that moment drifting far 
away down the river, anxiously speculating as to 
his fate. Then he told Winn of the painting of 
the panorama, the building of the Whatnot , and 
of his plans for the future. 

When the meal finally came to an end, on ac- 
count of Winn’s inability to eat any more, the boy 
was surprised to find how much at home he had 
been made to feel by the unaffected simplicity and 
unobtrusive kindness of these strangers. 

While Sabella and Solon cleared the table, the 
Captain lighted a lantern and showed him over 
the boat. Thus the boy discovered that while its 
after -part was devoted to the engine-room and 
quarters for an animated , one-mule-power engine, a 
galley, and the general living-room, the remainder 
of the house was arranged as an entertainment 
hall, with a small curtained stage at one end, and 
seats for one hundred spectators. Cap’n Cod in- 
formed him that this was to be his sleeping apart- 
ment so long as he remained with them. The 
Captain slept in the pilot-house, while Sabella’s 
dainty little room was in the after-house on the 
upper deck, and was connected with the living- 
room by a flight of inside stairs. 


CHAPTER XVIII.. 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 

The next morning, when Winn opened his eyes 
after the first night of undisturbed sleep he had 
enjoyed since leaving home, he was for a moment 
greatly puzzled to account for his surroundings. 
His bed had been made down in the exhibition 
hall on two benches drawn close together, and as 
he awoke, he found himself staring at a most mar- 
vellous painting that occupied the full height and 
nearly the entire width of the stage at the farther 
end of the hall. It was a lurid scene, but so filled 
with black shadows that to a vivid imagination it 
might represent any one of many things. While 
the boy was wondering if the young woman in 
yellow who appeared in the upper corner of the 
picture, with outstretched arms and dishevelled 
hair, was about to commit suicide by flinging her- 
self from the second story of the factory, and only 
hesitated for fear of crushing the badly frightened 
young man in red who from the street below 
had evidently just discovered his peril, a door 
opened, and his host of the evening before tiptoed 
into the room. 


188 Raftmates : 

The expression “ tiptoed ” is here used to indi- 
cate the extreme caution of Cap’n Cod’s entrance, 
and his evident desire to effect it as noiselessly as 
possible. As he could only tiptoe on one foot, 
however, and had neglected to muffle the iron- 
shod peg that served him in place of the other, 
his progress was attended with more than its usual 
amount of noise. He appeared relieved to find 
Winn awake, and advancing with a cordial greet- 
ing, he laid the boy’s own clothing, now cleaned 
and dried, within his reach. “ I should have sent 
Solon in with these,” he explained, “ but for fear 
he might make a noise that would rouse you, and 
I noticed last evening that you were sadly in need 
of sleep. So, if you had not been awake, I should 
have stolen away as noiselessly as I entered, and 
left you to have your nap out. Now, however, I 
think you had better come to breakfast, for Sa- 
bella and I finished ours some time ago.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” said Winn. “ I will be out in 
half a minute ; but will you please explain that 
painting? I have been studying it ever since I 
woke.” 

“ That,” replied the Captain, with an accent of 
honest pride, “ is what I consider one of my chef- 
dovers. I term it a i Shakespearian composite.’ 
In order to please the tastes of certain audiences, I 
shall describe it as the balcony scene between 


1S9 


A Story of the Great River. 

Romeo and Juliet. You may note Romeo’s man- 
dolin lying at liis feet, while over the whole falls 
the melancholy light of a full moon rising behind 
the palace. To suit a less - intelligent class, it 
would perhaps be described as the escape of a 
Turkish captive by leaping from the upper floor 
of the Sultan’s seraglio into the arms of her 
gallant rescuer, who would be American, British, 
French, German, or Spanish, according to the pre- 
dominating nationality of my audience. Or it 
might be called ‘A Thrilling Incident of the Great 
New York Fire,’ in which case Juliet’s moonlight 
would be spoken of as ‘ devastating flames,’ and 
Romeo’s mandolin would figure as a fireman’s 
helmet. It is a painting of infinite possibilities, 
any one of which may be impressed upon an 
audience by a judiciously selected title and the 
skilful directing of their imagination. Although 
I am proud of this picture, I have a number 
of other i composites ’ that are even more star- 
tling than this in the variety of scenes that they 
can be made to illustrate. By studying them you 
will learn that the whole secret of artistic success 
lies in the selection of titles that appeal to and 
direct the imagination of the critic, the spectator, 
or the would-be purchaser. I w T ould gladly exhibit 
and explain them to you now, but business before 
pleasure ; so, if you are dressed, let us to breakfast.” 


f 


1J^0 Baftmates : 

While Winn was eating his late breakfast, Billy 
Brackett, only a couple of miles away, was gazing 
with an expression of the blankest amazement at 
his nephew’s note-book. “ How in the name of 
all that is mysterious and improbable did this 
book happen to be in that coat, that coat in that 
skiff, that skiff on that raft, and that raft here? 
It certainly seems as though I had brought the 
skiff from the raft — at least this man says I did. 
You are certain that I came in that identical boat, 
are you ?” 

“ Certain, sir,” replied the watchman to whom 
this question was addressed. 

“ No one else could have come in this skiff, and 
then gone off in mine by mistake ?” 

“ Impossible, sir. I have been wide-awake all 
night, and there has not been another soul aboard 
this wharf -boat until just now. Besides, I took 
that coat from the skiff just after you left it last 
evening.” 

“ Then,” said Billy Brackett, “ the chain of evi- 
dence seems to be unbroken, incredible as it may 
appear, and it stretches from here straight away 
down the river — book coat, coat skiff, skiff raft, 
raft Winn. Now, in order to bring its ends to- 
gether, and recover my long-lost nephew, I must 
again overtake that raft. I must start as soon as 
possible after breakfast, too. I don’t know wheth- 


A Story of the Great River. Hi 

er the game Winn and I are playing is blind-man’s- 
buff or hide-and-seek, but it certainly resembles 
both.” 

Musing over this new aspect of the situation, the 
3 r oung engineer hastened back to his hotel and 
breakfast. In the dining-room, a few minutes 
later, a waiter was leaning over him, and asking, 
for the third time, “ Tea or coffee, sir, an’ how’ll 
you have your eggs ?” when the inattentive guest 
suddenly caused him to jump as though galvan- 
ized, by bringing his fist down on the table with a 
crash, and exclaiming, “ No, by the great horn- 
spoon, it can’t be that way either! What’s that 
you say ? Oh yes, of course. Coffee, soft-boiled, 
and as quick as you can.” Having delivered this 
order, the } r oung man fixed his intent gaze on a 
brown spot ornamenting the table-cloth, and re- 
sumed his thinking. 

It had just occurred to him that, according to 
all accounts, the raft from which he had taken 
that skiff had come down the river to this point 
two days before. So how could Winn Caspar, 
who had only escaped from the island a few 
minutes before he and Bim made good their 
own retreat, have reached the same place and 
joined that raft without attracting attention ? 
Both the day and night watchmen at the wharf - 
boat had assured him that no such boy as he 


lJf2 Raftmates : 

described had been seen on the water-front. They 
also said that the raft had been there all the day be- 
fore, and that when it left it held only the three 
men who came with it. “ Of course he might have 
been inside the ‘ shanty’ when I was aboard, though 
I can’t see how he got there, nor why he should 
join a strange raft anyway,” argued the young 
man. “At any rate, it’s my business to find out 
whether or not he is aboard it now. How about 
using the skiff, though ? If it is the one Winn ran 
off with, it belongs to that Sheriff fellow. Like 
as not, he has already sent word down the river to 
have it picked up. In that case, if I was picked 
up in it, I might be accused of stealing it, which 
would never do in the world. Ho ; to be on the 
safe side I must leave the skiff here, and take the 
first down-river steamboat that stops at this land- 
ing. First, though, I’ll advertise for Winn in this 
town, and if I don’t find him on the raft, there 
may be news waiting for me here when I come 
back.” 

This was the plan upon which the young engi- 
neer decided to act, and immediately after break- 
fast he proceeded to put it into execution. 

There was no paper published in the place, but 
it did contain a makeshift sort of a printing- 
office, and towards this Billy Brackett directed his 
steps, after learning at what hour the next down- 


A Story of the Great River. US 

river boat was expected. Here he spent some time 
in composing a small circular, of which he ordered 
five hundred copies to be struck off, and distrib- 
uted broadcast. His boat came along and he had 
to leave before this was ready for press ; but he 
had engaged the services of his new acquaintance 
the night-watchman, who promised to place the 
bills wherever they would do good. 

Poor Bim, tied up on the wharf-boat, and nearly 
heart-broken at his master’s desertion, was also left 
in charge of this man. Billy Brackett was de- 
sirous of establishing friendly relations with the 
raftsmen when he should overtake them, and 
feared that would be impossible in case they should 
recognize him. This they would certainly do if 
he were accompanied by the bull-dog, whom one 
of them at least had reason to remember so 
well. 

At another small landing, nearly a hundred 
miles farther down the river, Messrs. Gilder, 
Grimshaw, and Plater were rendered somewhat 
uneasy, late on the following day, by the ap- 
pearance on board their raft of a young man who 
asked questions. Billy Brackett had experienced 
considerable difficulty in finding this raft, and was 
greatly disappointed that his search in this direc- 
tion should prove fruitless. The raftsmen had 
never heard of Major Caspar, nor of Winn Caspar, 


llf.li Raftmates : 

his son. They were lumbermen from far up on 
the Wisconsin River, and were taking this raft to 
Re w Orleans as a speculation. They knew noth- 
ing of Sheriff Riley or his skiff. Yes, they had 
picked up an empty skiff two days before, but it 
had been taken away and another left in its place 
by a young fellow with a dog, who had boarded 
their raft without invitation, set his dog on one of 
them, and then skipped. They would like to meet 
that party again — yes, they would — and they’d 
make things pretty lively for him. 

Then they began asking questions in turn, and 
assuming such a hostile tone that Billy Brackett 
concluded he might as well leave then as later. So, 
after asking them to keep a sharp lookout for a 
raft with three “ shanties,’’ two of which were 
filled with wheat, he bade them good-evening, and 
started back up the river by rail. 

In the mean time the Whatnot had reached the 
town to which he was returning, and was now tied 
up just below the wharf-boat. It had been de- 
cided that the first exhibition of the “ Floating 
Panoramic Show ” should be given here, and 
Cap’n Cod went up into the town as soon as they 
arrived to have some bills printed. Winn, at the 
same time, started along the water-front to search 
for traces of his lost raft; and Sabella, who was 
very fond of dogs, went aboard the wharf-boat to 


A Story of the Great River. Ijf5 

make the acquaintance of a fine bull-dog she had 
noticed there as they passed. 

At supper-time they all gathered again in the 
living-room of the Whatnot , where Sabella re- 
ported her new friend to be the most splendid 
bull-dog she had ever seen, and that his name 
w T as Bim. 

This name at once attracted Winn’s attention, 
and he said he had an uncle somewhere out in 
California who owned a dog named Bim. Then 
the boy reported that nothing had been seen or 
heard of his raft, though he did not tell them he 
had discovered Sheriff Riley’s skiff. 

Cap’n Cod remarked that if he could only claim 
all the rewards he had just seen offered, he could 
afford to run the Whatnot by steam. “ There is 
one of a thousand dollars,” he said, “ for any in- 
formation that will lead to the capture of a gang 
of counterfeiters, supposed to be operating in this 
vicinity. Then there is one of a hundred dollars 
for the arrest of the fellow who ran off with Sheriff 
Riley’s skiff, and who is supposed to be a member 
of the same gang. There is still another, of an 
equal amount, for any information as to the where- 
abouts, if he is still living, or for the recovery of 
the body of a boy named Caspar, the only son of 
my old friend, Major John Caspar, of Caspar’s Mill, 
in Wisconsin. He has disappeared most unac- 
10 


lJf.6 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

countably, together with a raft owned by his 
father. By-the-way, his first name is the same as 
your last one, which is a little odd, for Winn is 
not a common name. That’s what it is, though, 
£ Winn Caspar.’ ” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A CURIOUS COMPLICATION. 

“So that is what I was arrested for, is it?” 
thought Winn. “ I was supposed to be one of a 
gang of counterfeiters, and a pretty desperate sort 
of a character. That will be a pretty good joke 
to tell father. But I wonder who is offering a 
reward for me as plain every-day Winn Caspar, 
besides the one that would be paid for the young 
counterfeiter who ran off with the Sheriff’s boat ?” 

This is what Winn thought. What he said was, 
“My! but that is a lot of money! Wouldn’t it 
be fine if we could earn those twelve hundred 
dollars ?” 

“Indeed it would,” answered the old man. 
“ Even one of the smaller rewards would buy us a 
mule.” 

“ Who is offering them ?” asked Winn. 

“ The Government offers the first, Sheriff Ri- 
ley the second, and the third is offered by some 
one named Brickell. ‘W. Brickell,’ the bills are 
signed. I saw them up at the printing-office, but 
they are being distributed all over the place.” 


Raftmates : 


U8 

Sure enough, in that wretched little printing- 
office the compositor had made “ Brickell ” out of 
Brackett, and as he was his own proof-reader, the 
mistake was not discovered. 

“ Brickell,'” repeated Winn, slowly. “ That is a 
queer name, and one that I never heard before.” 

“ Yes, it is one that has puzzled me a good deal,” 
said Cap’n Cod. “ I’m sure I never heard Major 
Caspar mention any such person.” 

“ You know this Major Caspar, then ?” 

“Know him! Well, I should say I did. We 
were in the same regiment all through the war, 
and a better officer never commanded men. Know 
him ! I know him to the extent of a leg, lost 
when I was standing so close beside him that if 
I hadn’t been there the ball would have taken his 
instead of mine. Know him! Didn’t I know 
him for three months in the hospital, where he 
came to see me every day? Indeed I do know 
Major Caspar, and I should be mighty glad to 
know of any way in which I could help him out 
of his present trouble.” 

“ It is strange that I never heard father speak 
of any Aleck Fifield,” thought Winn. He was 
about to ask some more questions, but was re- 
strained by the remembrance of his present pe- 
culiar position. The same thought checked his 
inclination to say, “I am Winn Caspar, sir, the 


A Story of the Great River. ljfi 

son of your friend Major Caspar, of Caspar’s Mill.” 
Instead of that he said to himself, “ I will wait 
until we get away from this place ; or, at any rate, 
until I can receive a letter from home that will 
prove who I am. Otherwise he might find out 
about the Sheriff’s skiff, and think I had made up 
the story to escape arrest as a thief.” 

So Winn held his peace, and only asked his 
host if he would furnish him the materials for 
writing a letter home. Provided with these, he 
wrote to his mother as follows : 

“Mandrake, Iowa. 

“My own dear Mother, — I write to you in- 
stead of to father, as I suppose he must be some- 
where on the river hunting for me by this time, 
though I have not seen him yet. 

“ I am all right, and having a fine time, but have 
lost the raft. I am on board a boat called the 
Whatnot , with some very kind people — a gentle- 
man named Fifield, a girl named Sabella, a funny 
old darky named Solon, and a monkey named Don 
Blossom. I am bound to find the raft again if it 
is still afloat, and am going to keep on down the 
river in this boat until we catch up with it. 

“ I shall be here long enough for you to answer 
this letter ; and send me some money, please, and 
tell me all about everybody. Give my dear love 


150 Baftmates : 

to Elta, and tell her I wish she knew Sabella and 
Don Blossom. She is just the kind of a girl, and 
he is just the kind of a monkey, a fellow likes to 
know. 

“Now it is late, and I must turn in, for I am 
working my passage on this boat, and Solon and I 
must take the place of a mule to-morrow, and till 
we can earn money enough to buy one. So good- 
bye, from your affectionate son, Winn.” 

While the boy was writing, Cap’n Cod went 
ashore, and when the former took his letter to the 
post-office, he met his host there with two letters 
in his hand. They followed Winn’s into the box, 
but he did not see the address on either of them. 
If he had, he would have been more troubled than 
ever, for one was addressed to the Sheriff of Du- 
buque County, and the other to his own father. 

The old man had seen and recognized the skiff 
that he had built for Sheriff Riley as it lay tied to 
the wharf-boat, but had thought it best to keep 
this discovery to himself until he could communi- 
cate with its owner. By cautious inquiries he 
learned that the skiff had been left there by a 
young man calling himself Brackett, who had gone 
on down the river, but was expected back in a day 
or two. Cap’n Cod would have telegraphed to 
Sheriff Riley but for the fact that the wires had 


151 


A Story of the Great River. 

not yet been extended to Mandrake. So he wrote 
and begged the Sheriff to hasten down the river 
by first boat. 

He also wrote to Major Caspar, expressing his 
sympathy, telling him that he was now travelling 
down the Mississippi in his own boat, the Whatnot , 
asking for full particulars concerning the lost boy, 
and offering to make every effort to discover his 
whereabouts. 

On the morning of that very day, just before 
his departure from Mandrake, Billy Brackett had 
also written and mailed a letter that read as 
follows : 

“ My dear Sister, — I am up a stump just at 
present, but hope to climb down very soon. In 
other words, your boy is smarter than I took him 
to be. He has not only managed to hide the raft, 
but himself as well, and both so completely that 
thus far I have had but little success in tracing 
them. I have reason to believe that he and I 
spent some time very close to each other on an 
island the night I left you, but before daylight 
he had again disappeared, leaving no trace. After 
that I learned nothing concerning him until reach- 
ing this place, when I again struck the trail. I am 
now following a warm scent, and expect to run 
the young fox to earth within a few hours. 


152 Raftmates : 

“So much for the boy. As for the raft, its disap- 
pearance is even more complete and unaccountable 
than his. There is absolutely nothing to report 
concerning it. I have boarded several rafts, but 
none of them bears the slightest resemblance to 
the Venture , which I am certain I should recognize 
at a glance. However, when I find Winn he will 
of course be able to put me on the right track, and 
the subsequent recovery of the raft will prove an 
easy matter. 

“ If you have any news, send it to me at this 
place, where I shall remain until I hear from you. 

“ Love to Elta. Tell her that last evening I ran 
across the queerest craft I ever saw, with the queer- 
est name I ever heard of. It is called the Whatnot . 
Of course its Captain knew nothing of Winn, 
and I did not expect he would ; but I make it my 
business to inquire of every one I meet or pass. 

“ Hoping to be able to send you better news 
within a day or two, I am your loving brother, 

“ William.” 

As this letter reached Caspar’s Mill in the same 
mail with those from Winn and the owner of the 
Whatnot , who, in writing to the Major, had used 
his old army name, and signed himself “ Kespect- 
fully yours, Cap’n Cod,” it may easily be imag- 
ined that Billy Brackett’s perplexity was as noth- 


158 


A Story of the Great River. 

mg compared to that of his sister. What could it 
all mean? Winn was alive and well; his letter 
brought that comfort. But what did he mean by 
stating that he was on board that boat with the 
absurd name, when both William and Captain Cod 
stated that lie was not there. Then, too, how could 
it be possible for those three persons, each of whom 
was anxious to find one of the others, to be in a 
small place, such as this Mandrake must be, for sev- 
eral days without running across each other? Such 
stupidity was incredible, and could only be ac- 
counted for by the fact that all three were of the 
masculine sex. Well, she would soon set things to 
rights, and the fond mother smiled to herself to 
think that it was left for her, who had remained qui- 
etly at home, to discover the missing boy after all. 

She had but a few minutes in which to catch 
the return mail ; but when it left, it bore three 
notes in her handwriting. The one directed to Mr. 
Winn Caspar, Mandrake, Iowa, read as follows : 

“ My darling Boy, — How could you leave us as 
you did ? And why don’t you come home ? Don’t 
lose a minute in hunting up your Uncle Billy, who 
is now in Mandrake. He will supply you with 
money, and tell you what to do. 

“Ever lovingly, but in great haste, 

“ Your own Mother.” 


15 If Raftmates : 

To the Captain of the Whatnot Mrs. Caspar 
wrote : 

“Sir, — In the absence of my husband, I took 
the liberty of opening your note to him of the 1st 
inst. In it you write that you are anxious to dis- 
cover our boy’s whereabouts, when, by the same 
mail, I am advised by him that he is on board the 
very boat of which you claim to be Captain and 
owner. I of course take my boy’s word in prefer- 
ence to that of any stranger. Having thus detected 
the hollowness of your sympathy, and the falseness 
of your pretended friendship for my husband, I 
must request you to refrain from further meddling 
in this matter. Yours etc., Ellen Caspar.” 

Fortunately, as this letter was addressed to Cap- 
tain Cod, Esq., instead of to Mr. Aleck Fifield, 
the old man never received it, and in due time it 
was returned to the writer from the Dead -letter 
Office. 

To Billy Brackett Mrs. Caspar wrote : 

“ My dear goose of a Brother, — I have just 
received a letter from Winn written at Mandrake. 
He is on the Mantel-piece , and out of money. 
Please supply him with whatever he needs, and 
bring him home to me as quickly as possible. As 


156 


A Story of the Great River. 

for the raft, I am sorry, of course, that you cannot 
find it ; but so long as Winn is safe, nothing else 
seems to matter. 

“ John writes full of enthusiasm concerning the 
contract, and I shall tell him nothing of your ab- 
surd doings until you and Winn are safely back 
here. Ever lovingly your sister, Ellen.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


BIM GROWLS. 

During the following day, while these letters 
were on their way to the little Iowa town in 
which the principal actors in this story were play- 
ing at such cross -purposes, active preparations 
were being made on board the Whatnot for the 
first exhibition of its panorama. In those days 
the panorama filled the place now taken by the 
stereopticon ; and though its crude pictures lacked 
the photographic truth of lantern slides, they were 
by no means devoid of interest. In fact, their 
gorgeousness of color, and the vagueness of detail 
that allowed each to represent several scenes, ac- 
cording to the pleasure of the lecturer, rendered 
them quite as popular, if not so instructive, as their 
modern successors. 

The success of a panorama, however, depended 
largely upon the person who explained its pictures. 
If he were witty, and knew how to tell the good 
story of which each one was certain to remind 
him, all went well, and the fame of that panorama 
spread far and wide. If, on the other hand, he 


Raftmates: A Story of the Great River. 157 

was prosy, and offered only dry explanations of 
his pictures, the impatient river -town audience 
did not hesitate to express their dissatisfaction, 
and the exhibition was apt to close with a riot. 

All this was well known to Cap’n Cod; but 
twenty years of absence from the stage had caused 
him to lose sight of his first and only humiliating 
appearance before an audience, and had restored 
all his youthful confidence in his own abilities. 
He was therefore to be the lecturer of his own 
show, while Winn and Solon were to enter the 
treadmill, and supply, as well as they could, the 
place of a mule in furnishing power to move the 
heavy roll of paintings. Sabella was also to remain 
out of sight, but was to grind out music from the 
hand-organ whenever it might be needed. This 
was only a temporary position, and would be filled 
by either Winn or Solon after a mule had been 
obtained for the treadmill. Sabella’s real duty 
was to dress Don Blossom, and see that he went on 
the stage at the proper time. 

The hour for giving these arrangements a public 
test finally arrived. By eight o’clock the exhibi- 
tion hall of the Whatnot was packed with an 
audience that contained a number of raftsmen and 
steamboat hands from the water-front. These 
were good-naturedly noisy, and indulged in cat- 
calls, stampings, and other manifestations of their 


158 Raftmates : 

impatience for the curtain to rise. An occasional 
lull in the tumult allowed the droning notes of 
the “ Sweet By-and-By,” then new and extremely 
popular, to be heard, as they were slowly ground 
out from the hand-organ by the invisible Sabella. 

At length they ceased ; the little drop-curtain 
was slowly rolled up so as to expose the first pict- 
ure, and Cap’n Cod, pointer in hand, in all the 
glory of the blue swallow-tail with brass buttons, 
stepped on the stage. His appearance was greeted 
with a silence that was almost painful in its con- 
trast with the previous tumult. 

How for the neat introductory speech that the 
old man had prepared so carefully and rehearsed 
until he knew every word by heart. He stepped 
forward, and gazed appealingly at the silent au- 
dience; but no word came from his dry lips. 
He swallowed convulsively, and appeared to be 
struggling with himself. A titter of laughter 
sounded from the back of the room. The old 
man’s face became fiery red and then deathly pale. 
He looked helplessly and pitifully from side to 
side. 

“Wind him up!” shouted a voice. 

“ He’s stopped short, never to go again,” called 
another. 

“ He’s an old fraud, and his show’s a fake!” 

“Speech! speech!” 


159 


A Story of the Great River. 

“ No ; a song ! Let old dot-and-carry-one give 
us a song !” 

“ Oh, shut up ! Don’t you see he’s a ballet- 
dancer ?” 

And so the derisive jeerings of this audience, 
like those of another twenty years before, hailed 
Cap’n Cod’s second failure. His confidence in 
himself, his years of experience, the memory of 
what he ought to say, all vanished the moment he 
faced that mass of upturned faces, and he was once 
more the dumb, trembling Codringhampton of 
twenty years before. A mist swam before his 
eyes, he groped blindly with his hands, the derisive 
yells of the river-men, who were endeavoring to 
secure their money’s worth of amusement from 
this pitiful spectacle, grew fainter and fainter in 
his ears. He tottered backward, and would have 
fallen, had not a young man from the audience 
sprang to his assistance. 

Yery tenderly he helped the old man from the 
stage and into the friendly shadows of the side 
scenes. In another moment he reappeared. W ith 
flashing eyes he stepped in front of the turbulent 
audience and held up his hand. The curiosity of 
the river-men was sufficient to produce an almost 
instant silence, which in another second might 
have changed into an angry roar. 

Who was this young fellow? What business 


160 Raftmates : 

had he to interfere with their fun ? What was he 
going to say ? He’d better be careful ! They 
were not in a humor to be trifled with. 

For a moment he looked steadily at them. 
Then he said : 

“Boys, I am surprised,- and if I thought for a 
moment that you really meant to worry that old 
man, I should be ashamed of you. But I know 
you didn’t It was only your fun. He has been a 
soldier, and lost a leg fighting for you and me and 
to preserve the glorious Union, that you and I are 
prouder of than anything else in life. He has a 
daughter in there too — a young girl, for whom 
he is trying to make a living with this show. I 
saw her just now, and if you could have seen the 
look of distress and terror on her face as she 
sprang to the old man’s side you would feel as I 
do about this business. You would know, as I do, 
that this was no fake, but a square— A, number one 
— show, packed full and running over with good 
things, worth ten times the price of admission. 
You’d know that it was just the bulliest show ever 
seen on this little old river, and you’d turn in with 
a will to help me prove it. I am a stranger, just 
arrived in town, ar\d never set eyes on this outfit 
before ; but I’m willing to put up my last dollar 
on the fact that this show is so much better than 
I’ve said that as soon as you’ve seen it once, you'll 


A Story of the Great River . 161 

want to see it right over again, you’ll come to it 
every evening that it stays here, and then you’ll 
follow it down the river on the chance of seeing it 
again. Hello, inside ! Turn on your steam, and 
set your whirligig to moving.” 

By this time the good-nature of the audience 
was fully restored, and, amid encouraging cries 
of “ That’s the talk !” “ Bing the jingle-bell and 

give her a full head !” “ Sweep her out into the 

current and toot your horn, stranger !” the pano- 
rama began slowly to unroll. The young man 
picked up the pointer, and the moment the second 
picture — a lurid scene that Cap’n Cod had entitled 
“ The Burning of Moscow ” — was fully exposed to 
view, he began : 

“ There you have it, gentlemen ! One of the 
most thrilling events of this century. The great 
San Francisco fire of ’55. City swept clean from 
the face of the earth, and built up again, finer than 
before, inside of a month. I tell you, fellows, those 
Californians are rustlers ! Why, I met a man out 
in ’Frisco last month whom I knew, two years 
ago, as a raftsman on this very river at twenty a 
month and found. To-day he is worth a cool mill- 
ion of dollars, and if you want to know how he 
made it, I’ll let you into the secret.” 

And so the young stranger rattled on with story 
and joke, never pausing to study the panoramic 
li 


162 Baftmates : 

scenes as they moved slowly along, but giving 
each the first title that suggested itself, and work- 
ing in descriptions to fit the titles. He kept it up 
for more than an hour; and when Sabella, who 
was watching him from the side scenes with ad- 
miring wonder, called out softly that the picture 
he was then describing was the last, he gracefully 
dismissed as delighted an audience as ever attend- 
ed a river show, and disappeared with them. 

Billy Brackett had come up the Illinois side of 
the river by rail and stage, and had been ferried 
across to Mandrake just in time to be attracted by 
the incipient riot aboard the Whatnot. Led to the 
scene by curiosity, his generous indignation was 
aroused by the sight of the helpless old man and 
his tormentors. JSTow, to avoid being thanked for 
what he had done, he hurried away, released Bim 
from his confinement on the wharf-boat, to that 
bow-legged animal’s intense joy, and went to the 
hotel for the night. 

The next morning, when he came down into 
the office, the clerk handed him Mrs. Caspar’s 
letter. He stood by the desk and read it. Then 
he read it again, with a frown of perplexity deep- 
ening on his forehead. “ Winn here, on board the 
Mantel-piece , and out of money ! What can Ellen 
mean ? She must be losing her mind.” 

The young man was so engrossed with this 


BILLY BRACKETT IS A FRIEND IN NEED. 



■•■'in. 
















163 


A Story of the Great River. 

letter that he paid no attention to the other occu- 
pants of the room. Thus he did not see Cap’n 
Cod and his niece enter the front door, nor notice 
that the former was greeted by two men who had 
been talking earnestly together and watching him 
with great interest. Nor did he see Sabella stoop 
to pat Bim, who had gone to meet her. He did 
not notice the entrance a moment later of a boy 
with a very puzzled expression of countenance 
and an open letter in his hand. Neither did he 
see that the boy was accompanied by the printer 
who had furnished his reward notices, and who 
now pointed in his direction, saying, “ That’s him 
there. That’s Mr. Brickell.” 

At the same moment Sabella exclaimed, “ Oh, 
Winn, here’s Bim ! Isn’t he a dear dog?” Then 
she too caught sight of Billy Brackett, and pulling 
Cap’n Cod by the sleeve, whispered, u There he is, 
uncle. That is the gentleman you have come to 
thank for helping us so splendidly last evening.” 

While she was thus whispering into one ear, the 
night watchman of the wharf-boat, who stood on 
the other side of the old man, was saying, in a low 
tone, “ Yes, sir. As I was just telling the Sheriff, 
that’s the man as stole his skiff, for I saw him 
when he landed here in it.” 

Sheriff Biley, who had only reached Mandrake 
half an hour before, was staring at Winn, and 


16 Jf Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

saying to himself, “ There’s the young rascal now. 
I knew it wasn’t that other fellow, though some- 
how his face is strangely familiar too.” 

There was a momentary hesitation on all sides. 
Then, as though moved by a single impulse, Winn 
started towards Billy Brackett to ask him if his 
name was Brickell, Cap’n Cod stepped up to ex- 
press his heart -felt gratitude for what he had 
done the evening before, and Sheriff Riley moved 
towards Winn with the intention of arresting him. 
At this Bim, recognizing the Sheriff, stationed 
himself in front of his preoccupied master, erected 
the bristles on the back of his neck, and growled. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


EVERY ONE EXPLAINS. 

At Bim’s growl, Billy Brackett said “ Be quiet, 
sir!” and looked up. He wondered somewhat at 
the number of persons advancing towards him, 
and was also surprised to note that, with one ex- 
ception, they were all people whom he knew. 
He recognized Sabella and her uncle, the wharf- 
boat man, the printer, and even the Sheriff of Du- 
buque County. The only one of the group whom 
he had not seen before was the gentlemanly and 
thoroughly honest -looking young fellow upon 
whose shoulder the Sheriff had just laid his hand, 
saying, 

“ I want you, my boy.” 

“ I expect I want him more than you do, Sher- 
iff,” remarked Billy Brackett, quietly, stepping 
forward and laying a hand on Winn’s other 
shoulder. “You take him to be a thief, while I 
take him to be my nephew ; and, of course, if he is 
the one, he can’t be the other. Isn’t your name 
Winn Caspar? Answer me that, you young 
rascal!” 


166 


Raftmates : 

“ Yes,” replied Winn, slowly, “ that is my name. 
But what a stupid I have been !” 

“ You mean in allowing yourself to be carried 
off by the raft, and then losing it, and getting 
arrested, and running off with the Sheriff’s skiff, 
and letting it go adrift with your coat in it, and 
shipping aboard some craft that your dear mother 
calls the Mantel-piece for a cruise down the river, 
instead of getting along home and relieving the 
anxiety of your distressed parents, to say nothing 
of that of your aged uncle. Yes, it does seem to 
me that in this instance the general brilliancy of 
the family is somewhat clouded.” 

“ I don’t mean anything of the kind,” answered 
Winn, stoutly. “All these things might have 
happened to any one, even to an uncle of your 
advanced years and wisdom. So I am sure I 
don’t consider them proofs of stupidity. The 
only stupid thing that I am willing to acknowledge 
is that I didn’t recognize Bim, after I’d been told 
there was a dog of that name here, too. That’s 
the thing I can’t get over.” 

“But you had never seen him!” exclaimed 
Billy Brackett. 

“That makes no difference,” was the calm re- 
ply. “ I’d heard so much about him that I ought 
to have known him, and I can’t forgive myself 
that I didn’t.” 


167 


A Story of the Great River . 

“ How about running off with my boat ?” que- 
ried the Sheriff, who did not at all understand the 
situation. 

“I didn’t run off with your boat. It ran off 
with me first, and ran away from me afterwards. 
If you hadn’t taken the oars out I should have 
rowed into Dubuque and sent some one back to 
the island with her. As it was, I had to go wher- 
ever she chose to take me, until she set me ashore 
on a tow-head, and went on down the river by her- 
self. I’m glad of it, though, for if she hadn’t, I 
should never have found the Whatnot .” 

“ The Whatnot /” exclaimed Billy Brackett. 
“ Are you living on board the Whatnot f” 

“ Yes, sir, this young gentleman is a guest on 
board of my boat,” said Cap’n Cod, who now found 
his first chance to speak; “and glad as I have 
been to have him, it would have made me many 
times happier to know that he was the son of 
my old friend and commander. Why didn’t you 
tell me the truth in the first place, boy ?” And the 
veteran gazed reproachfully at Winn. 

“ I did tell you the truth so far as I told you 
anything. I didn’t dare tell you any more, be- 
cause I heard you say you were a friend of Sheriff 
Riley, and knew his skiff. So I was afraid you 
would have me arrested for running off with it, and 
in that way delay me so that I would never find 


168 


Raftmates : 

the raft. Besides, I wanted to wait until I could 
get a letter from home to prove who I am, and I 
hadn’t a chance to write until we got here.” 

“ With me, the simple word of Major Caspar’s 
son would have been stronger than all the proof 
in the world,” said the loyal old soldier ; “ and 
though you did, as you say, tell the truth so far as 
you told anything, you did not tell the whole 
truth, as your father certainly would have done 
had he been in your place.” 

“ The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
the truth,” quoted the Sheriff, in his most official 
tone. “ But look here, Cap’n Cod,” he continued, 
“you haven’t yet explained what you know of 
this young fellow, and his suspicious, or, to say the 
least, queer performances on the river.” 

“ Cap’n Cod !” interrupted Winn. “ Is your 
name Cap’n Cod ?” 

“ It is a name that I have been known to answer 
to,” replied the owner of the Whatnot; “and after 
my performance of last evening I don’t suppose I 
shall ever be allowed to claim any other.” 

“ If you had only told me all your names in the 
first place,” said Winn, with a sly twinkle in his 
eyes, “ I should probably have done the same. I 
have so often heard my father speak of Cap’n 
Cod’s goodness and honesty and bravery, that I 
should have -been perfectly willing to trust him ; 


169 


A Story of the Great River. 

though I was a bit suspicious of the Sheriff’s 
friend, Mr. Aleck Fifield.” 

“ It’s not the Sheriff’s friends you need be sus- 
picious of, my lad, but his enemies,” interrupted 
Mr. Riley ; “ and I wonder if you haven’t fallen 
in with them already. As I now understand this 
case, you came down the river on a raft until you 
reached the island near which I found you. What 
became of your raft at that point ?” 

“ That is what I would like to know,” replied 
the boy. 

“ What !” cried Billy Brackett. “ Do you mean 
to say that you don’t know where the raft is ?” 

“ No more than I know how you happen to be 
here instead of out in California, where I supposed 
you were until five minutes ago. I haven’t set 
eyes on the Venture , nor found a trace of her, 
since the first morning out from home.” 

“Well, if that doesn’t beat everything !” said the 
young engineer, with a comical tone of despair. 
“ I thought that after finding you the discovery of 
the raft would follow as a matter of course ; but 
now it begins to look farther away than ever.” 

“But in finding me,” said Winn, “you have 
found some one to help you find the raft.” 

“You?” said the other, quizzically. “Why, I 
was thinking of sending you home to your mother ; 
that is, if the Sheriff here will allow you to go.” 


170 Raftmates : 

“ I don’t know about that,” said the officer. “It 
seems to me that I still know very little about this 
young man. Who is to prove to me that he is the 
son of Major Caspar ?” 

“ Oh, I can speak for that,” replied Billy 
Brackett. 

“And I suppose he is ready to vouch for you ; 
but that won’t do. You see, you are both suspicious 
characters, and unless some one whom I know as 
well as I do Cap’n Cod here can identify you, I 
must take you both back to Dubuque.” 

“ Captain Cod,” repeated Billy Brackett, thought- 
fully. “I seem to have heard that name before. 
Why, yes, I have a note of introduction from 
Major Caspar to a Captain Cod, and I shouldn’t 
wonder if you were the very man. Here it is 
now.” 

“ I am proud to make your acquaintance, sir,” 
said the veteran, heartily, after glancing over the 
note thus handed to him. “ It’s all right, Sheriff. 
This is certainly the Major’s handwriting, for I 
know it as I do my own, and I don’t want any 
better proof that this gentleman is the person he 
claims to be.” 

“ Would you be willing to go on his bond for a 
thousand dollars ?” asked Mr. Riley. 

“I would, and for as much more as my own 
property, together with what I hold in trust for 


A Story of the Great River. 171 

my niece, would bring,” answered the old man, 
earnestly. 

“And would you be willing that your money 
should be risked on any such a venture ?” asked 
the Sheriff, turning to Sabella with a smile. 

“Indeed I would,” answered the girl, promptly. 
“ After the splendid way Mr. Brackett helped us 
last evening, I know whatever he says must be so.” 

“That will do,” said Mr. Riley. “With such 
sureties I am well content, and am willing to make 
public acknowledgment that these gentlemen are 
what they represent themselves to be. Now, for 
their future guidance, I will tell them what I have 
not yet hinted to a living soul. It is that their 
raft has probably been stolen and taken down the 
river by the most noted gang of counterfeiters 
that has ever operated in this part of the country. 
There are three of them, and I thought I had 
surely run them to earth when I traced them to 
the island just above Dubuque. You must have 
seen them there, didn’t you ?” 

“No, sir,” replied Winn, to whom this question 
was addressed. “ I only saw one man on the 
island. He said he was a river-trader, and would 
help me float the raft. We went to look for his 
partners, and when I came back, it and he were 
both gone. After that I did not see a soul until 
you oame along and arrested me.” 


172 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

“That confirms my belief that they have ap- 
propriated your raft to their own uses,” said the 
Sheriff ; “ and it is a mighty good scheme on their 
part, too. We were watching all the steamboats, 
and even the trading $cows, but never thought of 
finding them on a raft. They have probably dis- 
guised it, and themselves too, long before this, so 
that to trail them will be very difficult. I sup- 
pose you will try to follow them, though ?” 

“ Certainly I shall,” answered Billy Brackett, 
promptly. “I haven’t undertaken this job only 
to give it up after a week’s trial. As for Winn, 
though, I don’t know but what I really ought to 
send him home.” 

“Now look here, Uncle Billy. You know you 
don’t mean that. You know that, much as I want 
to see mother and Elta, I simply must find that 
raft, or, at any rate, help you do it. You couldn’t 
send me home, either, unless you borrowed a pair of 
handcuffs from the Sheriff and put me in irons. 
Anyway, I don’t believe you’d have the heart. If 
I thought for a moment that you had, I’d — well, 
I’d disappear again, that’s all.” 

“All right,” laughed Billy Brackett. “I’m will- 
ing you should go with us if Bim is. What do 
you say, old dog ? Speak, sir !” 

And Bim spoke till the echoes rang again. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


A “MEWEL” NAMED “REWARD.” 

It being thus settled that the search for the 
raft was to be continued, the Sheriff said: “I 
wish I could go with you, Mr. Brackett, and see 
this affair through ; but those fellows are beyond 
my hunting-ground now, and Bve got important 
business to attend to up the river. I’ll tell you 
what I will do, though. I’ll appoint you a deputy, 
and give you a bit of writing witnessed by a no- 
tary, as well as a badge. The paper will identify 
you, and state that you are engaged on government 
business, which entitles you to official aid wher- 
ever you may demand it. I will also give you 
samples of the bills those fellows are circulating. 
They are fives and tens, and by far the best speci- 
mens of that kind of work I have ever seen. Of 
course, if you don’t catch them it will be all right ; 
but if you do, perhaps you’ll remember old friends 
when the reward is paid.” 

Billy Brackett thanked Mr. Riley, and accepted 
these friendly offers, though he afterwards re- 
marked to Winn that as they were searching for 


17 Jf Raftmates : 

a lost raft, and not for a gang of counterfeiters, 
he thought it unlikely that he should ever play 
the part of Sheriff. 

“ But you’d try for that reward if you had the 
chance, wouldn’t you ?” asked Winn. 

“ No, I would not,” was the prompt reply. 
“ Man -hunting, and especially man-hunting for 
money, is not in my line. It is a duty that Sher- 
iffs are obliged to perform, but, thank goodness, 
I am not a Sheriff.” 

At the conclusion of all these explanations and 
arrangements, the entire party adjourned to the 
Whatnot , to which Sabella had already returned, 
and where they were to dine, by Cap’n Cod’s in- 
vitation. 

What a good dinner it was, and what a merry 
one ! How Solon, who in a speckless white apron 
waited at table, grinned at the praises bestowed 
upon his cooking ! How they # all chaffed each other ! 
Winn was ironically praised for his success in 
losing rafts, and the Sheriff for his in capturing 
counterfeiters ; Cap’n Cod was gravely congratu- 
lated upon the result of his efforts to entertain the 
public, and even Sabella was highly praised for 
her skilful performance on the hand-organ. With 
all this banter, Cap’n Cod did not lose sight of the 
obligation under which Billy Brackett had placed 
him the evening before, and so sincerely regretted 


175 


A Story of the Great River. 

that he and Winn were not to continue their voy- 
age down the river on the Whatnot , that the 
former finally said : 

“Well, sir, if you really want us to, I don’t see 
why we shouldn’t travel with you until we over- 
haul our raft. I am rather taken with this show 
business myself, and have always had a desire to 
appear on the stage. As for Winn, and that other 
young monkey, Don Blossom — ” 

“All right,” laughed Winn. “I’d rather take 
the part of monkey than of mule, any day.” 

“ Other young monkey,” continued Billy Brack- 
ett, gravely, without noticing this interruption, 
“we’ll hitch them together and exhibit them 
as Siamese twins. Oh, I tell you, gentlemen, 
we’ll give a show such as never was seen on this 
little old river. I don’t suppose this craft is as fast 
as some of the larger steamboats, but she can cer- 
tainly overtake a raft, and we might just as well 
have some fun out of the trip as not.” 

“ But she is not a steamboat,” confessed Cap’n 
Cod. 

“ Not a steamboat ! What is she then, and how 
do you propel her ?” 

“ She is only a mule-boat, and at present, as we 
have no mule, we merely drift with the current.” 

At this Billy Brackett became thoughtful, and 
asked to be shown into the engine-room. He had 


176 Raftmates : 

not appreciated Winn’s reference to acting the 
part of a mule until now ; but at sight of the 
treadmill, and a sudden realization of the part his 
nephew had taken in the performance of the pre- 
ceding evening, he laughed until the tears filled 
his eyes, and the others laughed in sympathy. 

“ Oh, Winn, Winn !” he cried. “ You’ll be the 
death of me yet ! 1 wonder if ever an uncle was 

blessed with such an absurd nephew before ?” 

“ That’s all right, Uncle Billy,” said Winn; 
“but you just step in and work that treadmill for 
an hour. Then see if you’ll laugh. Eh, Solon ?” 

“No, sah. Ole Solom he don’ git in dere no 
mo’. He gwine strike, he am, agin dish yer 
mewel bizness.” 

“Look here, Winn,” said Billy Brackett, when 
he had recovered his gravity, “ didn’t I offer a 
reward for your discovery ?” 

“ To be sure you did ; and I meant to claim it, 
too. That’s what I got the printer to point out 
Mr. ‘Brickell’ for. So I’ll take it now, if you 
please.” 

“ That is one of the rewards I expected to earn,” 
remarked Cap’n Cod. “And I wrote to your father 
for full particulars concerning your disappearance ; 
but I don’t suppose there is any chance for me 
now, so long as you have discovered yourself, unless 
you could make it convenient to get lost again.” 


177 


A Story of the Great River. 

“ I was rather expecting to come in for that re- 
ward myself,” said the Sheriff. 

“ While I,” said Billy Brackett, “ had about con- 
cluded that if any one was entitled to it, it was the 
young rascal’s worthy uncle. But I’ll tell you how 
we will settle these several claims. Solon here is 
almost the only one who has not applied for the 
reward, though I am convinced that he is as well 
entitled to it as any of us. Therefore I am going 
to pay it to him — ” 

At this the old negro’s eyes grew wide as sau- 
cers. He had never been possessed of a hundred 
dollars in his life. 

“ On condition,” continued the young engineer, 
“that he immediately invests it in a mule, which 
he shall offer to our friend Cap’n Cod as a substi- 
tute for himself and Winn in the treadmill. I 
shall receive my reward by being permitted to 
travel on the Whatnot and study for the stage, 
while the Sheriff shall be rewarded by being al- 
lowed to name the mule.” 

Although they all laughed at this scheme and 
considered it a good joke, Billy Brackett was deeply 
in earnest beneath all his assumed frivolity. He 
realized that finding the raft and taking possession 
of it were no longer one and the same thing. The 
fact that it was in the hands of a gang of men who 
were at once shrewd and desperate rendered its 
12 


173 Raftmates : 

recovery an affair requiring all the discretion and 
skill that he could command. For the purpose in 
view, a boat like the Whatnot , with which he could 
stop when and where he pleased, as well as visit 
places unattainable by larger craft, was much bet- 
ter suited than a steamboat that would only touch 
at certain fixed points. Then again he and Winn 
would be less likely to arouse the suspicion of those 
whom they sought if attached to Cap’n Cod’s 
show than if they appeared to have no definite 
business or object in view. He calculated that by 
using mule -power in the daytime and drifting 
with the current at night the Whatnot could be 
made to reach St. Louis as soon as the raft, and 
still allow time for several exhibitions of the pan- 
orama on the way. From the outset he had ex- 
pected to take the raft at least as far as St. Louis, 
and now was perfectly willing that its present crew 
should have the labor of navigating it to that point. 
Thus the plan of travelling by the WhaPnot com- 
mended itself strongly to his judgment, besides 
proving highly satisfactory to all those interested 
in it. 

Even Bim approved of it, for in addition to show- 
ing a decided appreciation of Sabella’s friendship, 
this intelligent animal evinced a desire to become 
more intimately acquainted with Don Blossom, who 
was the first of his race he had ever encountered. 


179 


A Story of the Great River. 

The mule selected by Solon, and guaranteed by 
that expert in mules to be “ a tumble wukker, ’kase 
I sees hit in he eye,” was purchased that very 
afternoon, and immediately introduced to the scene 
of his future labors. 

Sheriff Riley named him “ Reward.” Then bid- 
ding these strangely found friends good-bye, and 
taking his recovered property with him, he boarded 
an up-bound steamboat and started for home. 

As there was no reason why the others should 
not also begin their journey at once, the Whatnot 
was got under way at the same time, and headed 
down the stream. 

Cap’n Cod proudly occupied the pilot-house; 
Solon attended to the four-legged engine ; Sabella 
was making preparations for supper; while the two 
who would be raftmates, provided they only had 
a raft, paced slowly back and forth on the upper 
deck, enjoying the scenery and discussing their 
plans. 

“ If we only knew how those fellows had dis- 
guised the raft, and what she looked like now!” 
remarked Billy Brackett. 

“I’m certain that I should recognize it under 
any disguise,” asserted Winn, positively. 

“ That may be, but it would simplify matters if 
we could have some definite description of the 
craft. How we shall have to board every raft we 


180 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

overhaul, on some pretence or other, and make in- 
quiries. And that reminds me that the Whatnot 
does not seem to be provided with a skiff.” 

“Yes, Solon said there was one on this deck, 
covered with canvas. That must be it there,” re- 
plied Winn. As he spoke he lifted an edge of the 
bit of old sail that protected some bulky object 
from the weather, and looked beneath it. Then he 
uttered a cry of amazement, and tore the canvas 
completely off. 

“ It’s my canoe, as sure as I’m standing here !” 
he shouted. “ The very one that was carried off on 
the raft !” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


REWARD RUNS AWAY WITH THE PANORAMA. 

There was not the slightest doubt that the 
canoe, covered by a bit of canvas, which had rested 
all this time on the upper deck of the Whatnot , 
was the very one whose loss had grieved Winn 
almost as much as that of the raft itself. If he 
had needed proof other than his certain knowl- 
edge of the little craft, it was at hand ; for, as he 
pointed out to Billy Brackett, there were his ini- 
tials, rudely cut with a jack-knife, just inside the 
gunwale. How well he remembered carving them, 
one sunny afternoon, when he and Elta were drift- 
ing down the creek! Yes, indeed, it was his canoe 
fast enough, but how came it there? There was 
but one way to obtain an answer, and in another 
minute Cap’n Cod was being plied with eager 
questions as to when, where, and how he came 
into possession of the dugout. 

“ That canoe ?” he questioned slowly, looking 
from one to the other, and wondering at their 
eagerness. “ Why, I bought it off a raft just 
before leaving Dubuque. You see, I didn’t have 


182 Raftmates : 

any skiff, and didn’t feel that I could afford to buy 
one. So I was calculating to build one after we’d 
got started. Then a raft caine along, and the fel- 
lows on it must have been awfully hard up, for 
they offered to sell their canoe so cheap that I 
just had to take it. Two dollars was all I gave 
for it ; and though it isn’t exactly — ” 

“But what sort of a raft was it?” anxiously in- 
terrupted Winn. 

“Just an ordinary timber raft with a ‘ shanty’ 
and a tent on it, and — ” 

“ You mean three ‘ shanties,’ don’t you ?” 

“No ; one ‘shanty’ and a tent. I took particu- 
lar notice, because as there were only three men 
aboard, I wondered why the ‘ shanty,’ which looked 
to be real roomy, wasn’t enough.” 

“Three men!” exclaimed Billy Brackett — “a 
big man, a middle-sized man, and a little man, like 
the bears in the story-book. Why Winn, that’s 
our raft, and I’ve been aboard it twice within the 
last four days.” 

“You have! Where? How? Why didn’t 
you tell me ? Where is it now ?” 

“Oh, I have been aboard it here and there. 
Didn’t mention it because I haven’t been ac- 
quainted with you long enough to post you in 
every detail of my previous history, and now that 
raft is somewhere down the river, between here 


183 


A Story of the Great River. 

and St. Louis.” Then changing his bantering tone, 
the young engineer gave a full explanation of how 
he happened to board the Venture twice, and when 
he finished, Winn said, 

“ But you haven’t mentioned the wheat. Didn’t 
you notice it ?” 

“ Wheat ! Oh yes. I do remember your father 
saying he had put some wheat aboard as a specula- 
tion ; but I didn’t see anything of any wheat, nor 
was there any place where it could have been con- 
cealed.” 

“ Then they must have thrown it overboard, as 
I was afraid they had, and there was a thousand 
dollars’ worth of it, too.” 

“Whew! Was there as much as that?” said 
Billy Brackett, thoughtfully. “So those rascals 
first stole it, and then threw it away, and now 
there is a thousand dollars reward offered for infor- 
mation that will lead to their capture. I declare, 
Winn, circumstances do sometimes alter cases.” 

“ Indeed they do, and I think we ought to ac- 
cept that reward, for father’s sake. I know I feel 
as if I owed him at least a thousand dollars.” 

“ Did you ever cook a rabbit before you caught 
it, Winn ?” 

“ Of course not. How absurd ! Oh, I see what 
you mean, but I don’t think it’s the same thing 
at all We can’t help finding the raft, now that 


18 Jf Raftmates : 

we know where it is, and just what it looks 
like.” 

Billy Brackett only laughed at this, and then, 
in obedience to Sabella’s call, they went down to 
supper. The engine was stopped that it also 
might be fed, and for an hour the Whatnot was 
allowed to drift with only Solon on deck. Then 
Reward was again set to work, and until ten 
o’clock the unique craft spun merrily down-stream. 
From that hour the engine was allowed to rest 
until morning ; and while they drifted, the crew 
divided the watches of the night between them, 
Cap’n Cod and Winn taking one, and Billy Brack- 
ett with Solon for company the other. 

At midnight Sabella had a lunch ready for the 
watch just coming below, as well as for the one 
about to turn out ; and then, wrapped warmly in 
a blanket, she sat for an hour on the upper deck 
with Cap’n Cod and Winn, fascinated by the nov- 
elty of drifting down the great river at night. 
The lights that twinkled here and there along the 
shores earlier in the evening had disappeared, and 
the whole world seemed asleep. The brooding 
stillness was only broken by the distant hooting 
of owls, or the musical complainings of the swift 
waters as they chafed impatiently against some 
snag, reef, or bar. 

They talked in hushed voices, and Sabella re- 


185 


A Story of the Great River, 

lated how the man from whom her uncle pur- 
chased Winn’s canoe had told her that she re- 
minded him of his own little daughter, who lived 
so far away that she didn’t even know where her 
father was. “ He loves her dearly, though,” added 
Sabella. “ I know from the way he talked about 
her ; but I can’t think what he meant when he 
said I ought to be very grateful because I didn’t 
have any father, and that it would be much better 
for his little girl if she hadn’t one either.” 

“ I suppose he meant because he is such a bad 
man,” suggested Winn. 

“ I don’t believe he is a bad man,” protested 
Sabella. “ If he was, he just couldn’t talk the 
way he did.” 

“ But he stole our raft, and he is a counterfeiter, 
and there’s a reward offered for him.” 

“ How do you know ? Only yesterday some 
people thought you had stolen a boat, and were a 
counterfeiter, and there were two rewards offered 
for you,” laughed Sabella. “ So perhaps this man 
isn’t any worse than you were. Anyhow, I’m 
going to like him for his little girl’s sake, until I 
find out that he is really a bad man.” 

“I wonder if it could have been Mr. Gilder?” 
thought Winn, as he remembered how that gentle- 
man had won his confidence. Then he entertained 
Cap’n Cod and Sabella by relating the incident of 


186 


Raftmates : 

his warm reception to the first and only one of the 
“ river-traders ” whom he had met. 

By noon of the next day they reached the point 
at which Billy Brackett had last seen the raft, and 
they knew that here their search for it must begin 
in earnest. For five days more they swept on 
down the mighty river at the rate of nearly a 
hundred miles a day. They no longer ran at 
night, for fear of passing the raft in the darkness, 
but from sunrise to sunset they hurried southward 
with all possible speed. They made inquiries at 
every town and ferry landing; they scanned criti- 
cally every raft they passed, and boarded several 
that appeared to be about the size of the Venture , 
though none of them showed a tent in addition to 
its “shanty.” During every minute of daylight 
either Billy Brackett or Winn watched the river 
from the upper deck, but at the end of five days 
they had not discovered the slightest trace of the 
missing raft. 

Cap’n Cod became so interested in the chase 
that he would willingly have kept it up by night 
as well as by day, without stopping to give exhibi- 
tions anywhere ; but this Billy Brackett would not 
allow. 

“We are certainly travelling faster than they,” 
he argued, “ even if they are not making any 
stops, which is improbable, considering the nature 


181 


A Story of the Great River. 

of their business. So we must overtake them 
sooner or later, and we can’t afford the risk of 
missing them by running at night. Besides, this 
is a show-boat, and not a police patrol boat. Its 
reputation must be sustained, and though we don’t 
take time enough at any one place to advertise, 
and so attract a crowd, we can at least pay ex- 
penses.” 

So the panorama was exhibited every evening, 
and Billy Brackett, acting as lecturer, pointed out 
the beauties of the “ composite ” paintings, in his 
own witty, happy-go-lucky way, to such audiences 
as could be collected. 

At one of these exhibitions, given at Alton, only 
twenty miles from St. Louis, and just above the 
point where the clear waters of the Mississippi 
disappear in the turbid flood of the greater Mis- 
souri, an incident occurred that, while only re- 
garded as amusing at the time, was productive of 
most important results to our friends. At Billy 
Brackett’s suggestion, Don Blossom, dressed to 
represent the lecturer, had been trained to slip 
slyly on the stage after the panorama was well 
under way. Provided with a bit of stick, he would 
walk behind the lecturer, and gravely point at the 
picture in exact imitation of the other’s move- 
ments. For a minute or so Billy Brackett would 
continue his remarks as though nothing unusual 


188 Raftmates : 

were happening. At length, when he had allowed 
sufficient time to elapse for an audience to fully 
appreciate the situation, he would turn as though 
to learn the cause of their uproarious mirth, dis- 
cover the monkey, and chase him from the stage 
with every sign of anger. 

In rehearsal, this act had been done to perfec- 
tion; but the first time Don Blossom heard the 
storm of cheers, yells, and laughter, with which 
his appearance was greeted by a genuine river au- 
dience, he became so terrified, that without wait- 
ing to be driven from the stage he fled from it. 
Darting behind the scenes and on through the 
living-room, he finally took refuge in* the darkest 
corner of the engine-room, where Reward was 
drowsily working his treadmill. The monkey 
was so frightened that a moment later, when Sa- 
bella went to find him, he sprang away from her, 
and with a prodigious leap landed squarely on 
Reward’s head, where, chattering and screaming, 
he clung desperately to the long ears. 

The next instant a frantic mule was performing 
the almost impossible feat of running away on a 
treadmill. At the same time, to Billy Brackett’s 
dismay and to the astonishment of his audience, 
the several pictures of the panorama were flitting 
by in a bewildering stream of color, the effect of 
which was kaleidoscopic and amazing. 


WITH A PRODIGIOUS LEAP HE LANDED SQUARELY ON REWARD’S HEAD. 








189 


A Story of the Great River. 

This was Don Blossom’s first and last appear- 
ance on the stage in public, for he was so thoroughly 
frightened that, after being rescued from his un- 
happy position, nothing could induce him to enter 
either the exhibition hall or the engine-room again. 
An hour later he managed to evade the watchful- 
ness of his young mistress, slip from the boat, and 
scamper away through the darkness. His absence 
was not discovered until the next morning, and at 
first it was supposed that he was in hiding some- 
where on board. When a thorough search failed 
to produce the little rascal, all except Sabella 
declared he would never be found, and they must 
proceed down the river without him. Against this 
decision the little girl, who had become deeply at- 
tached to her pet, protested so earnestly that Cap’n 
Cod finally agreed to devote an hour to searching 
the town and making inquiries for the lost mon- 
key. In order to make the search as thorough as 
possible, he, Billy Brackett, Winn, and Solon went 
ashore and started in different directions, leaving 
Sabella alone on the Whatnot. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


WINN DISCOVERS HIS LONG-LOST RAFT. 

The morning was gray and chill. The low- 
hanging clouds were charged with moisture, and 
a thick fog hung above the river. Sabella was so 
filled with anxiety concerning the fate of Don 
Blossom that she was unable to settle down to 
any of the light domestic duties with which she 
generally occupied her mornings. She wandered 
restlessly from door to window, with the vague 
hope that her missing pet might be somewhere in 
sight. If the weather had not been so unpleasant, 
she would have started out on a private search for 
him in the immediate vicinity of the landing. All 
at once, as she was gazing from the window of her 
own little room on the upper deck at the dreary - 
looking houses of the river-front, and as far as she 
could see up the one muddy street that came 
within her range of vision, she heard shouting 
and laughter, and saw a group of persons approach- 
ing the boat. 

For a few minutes she could not make out who 
they were, or what they were doing. Then she 


Raftmates: A Story of the Great River . 191 

saw that the one taller than the others was a man, 
and that he was surrounded by a group of boys. 
Several of them ran backward in front of him, and 
all of them seemed greatly excited over something 
that he bore in his arms. It was a red bundle that 
squirmed and struggled as though it was alive. 
Sabella looked for a moment longer, then she 
darted down the short flight of steps leading to the 
living-room, and flung open the outer door. 

“ It’s Don Blossom ! It’s my own dear, sweet 
Don Blossom !” she cried, almost snatching the 
trembling little animal from the man’s arms in 
her eagerness. 

The man stepped inside, and closed the door to 
shut out the boys, who, after lingering a few min- 
utes, gradually dispersed. 

“ Oh, you dear monkey ! How could you run 
away? You naughty, naughty Don Blossom! 
Was he cold and wet and hungry and fright- 
ened ? But lie’s safe now, and he shall have his 
breakfast directly ; so he shall, the dear blessed !” 

While Sabella was so much engrossed with her 
pet as to be unmindful of all else, the man who 
had restored him to her stood just within the 
doorway and watched her, with an amused smile. 

“ So he is your monkey, is he ? I thought he 
must be when I first saw him,” he said at length. 

“ Yes, indeed, he is ; and I have been feeling SO 


192 Raftmates : 

badly at losing him. But where did you find 
him, and how did you know he was mine V 9 Here 
the little girl looked for the first time into the 
stranger’s face. “Why, you are the very same 
one — ” 

“ Yes,” he replied, quietly, “ I am the very same 
one whom you reminded of his own little girl, and 
who has thought of you very often since. I didn’t 
know that you had reached this place, or I should 
have come to see you before. I found this monkey 
a little while ago in possession of some boys who 
were teasing him, and thought I recognized him 
as soon as I saw him. I became certain he was 
yours when some of the boys said they had seen 
him on a show-boat last evening, and that, after 
they had had some fun with him, they were going 
to bring him down here and claim a reward. As 
I wanted the pleasure of bringing him back to you 
myself, I bought him of them, and here he is.” 

“ Then you are not a bad man, as Winn said, 
but a very good one, as I told him, and now I can 
prove it !” exclaimed Sabella, with a note of joyous 
triumph in her voice. “ I’m ever and ever so 
much obliged to you, and I only wish I could see 
your little girl to tell her what a splendid father 
she has.” 

“ Who is Winn ? And what makes him think 
I am a bad man ?” inquired the stranger, curiously. 


193 


A Story of the Great River . 

“ Oh, he’s a boy, a big boy, that has lost a raft 
that we are helping him find, and he thinks you 
stole it. So he says you are a bad man ; but I know 
you are not, and you wouldn’t do such a mean thing 
as to steal a boy’s raft, would you ?” 

“Well, no,” hesitated the stranger, greatly taken 
aback by this unexpected disclosure and abrupt 
question. “ No, of course not,” he added, recov- 
ering himself. “ I wouldn’t steal a raft, or any- 
thing else, from a boy, though I might occasion- 
ally borrow a thing that I needed very much. But 
where is this Winn boy now ? And where is your 
uncle ?” 

“ They have gone out to find Don Blossom, and 
Mr. Brackett and Solon have gone too, but they’ll 
all be back directly, and then you can tell them 
that you onty borrowed Winn’s raft, and where 
you have left it. Oh, I am so glad it was you that 
found Don Blossom !” 

“ Who is Mr. Brackett ?” inquired the stranger, 
glancing uneasily out of the window. 

“Mr. Brackett? Why, he is Winn’s uncle, 
though you wouldn’t think he was an uncle, or 
any older than Winn, he is so funny, and he is 
helping find the raft. But you’ll see him in a few 
minutes, for they said they’d only be gone an 
hour.” 

“I think I’ll go and find them, and tell them 
13 


19 Raftmates : 

they needn’t hunt any longer for the monkey,” 
said the stranger, hurriedly. 

Then, before Sabella could remonstrate, he had 
bent down and kissed her, saying, “ Good-bye, and 
God bless you, little one,” opened the door, and 
was gone. 

“Seems to me that is very foolish, when he 
might have seen them by just waiting a few min- 
utes,” said Sabella to herself, as she pulled off Don 
Blossom’s gay but soaked and mud - bespattered 
coat. “Now perhaps he will miss them after 
all.” 

The stranger had hardly disappeared before 
Solon returned to the boat, grumbling at the weath- 
er, the mud, and, above all, at the rheumatism that 
forbade him to remain out in the wet any longer. 

“Hit hain’t no use, honey,” he said, as he 
opened the door, “ dat ar Don monkey gone fur 
good an’ all dish yer time. Yo’ nebber see him 
no mo.’ Wha — wha — whar yo fin’ him? He 
ben yeah all de time, while ole Solon ben er traip- 
sin’ fro de mud, an’ er huntin’, an’ er huntin’ ?” 

“ No, indeed, he hasn’t !” cried Sabella, laughing 
merrily, as she held Don Blossom up to the aston- 
ished gaze of the old negro. “ He has just come 
home.” Then she explained at length how her 
pet had been brought back to her by such a good 
kind man. 


195 


A Story of the Great River. 

“Well, ef dat ar ain’t a beater!” ejaculated 
Solon. “ I’s mighty glad de lil rasc’l is foun’, any- 
way, ’kase now we kin be gittin’ outen dish yer 
rheumatizy place. I’ll go an’ hitch up dat mewel, 
so to hab him ready to start when de Cap’n come.” 

Upon leaving the Whatnot , Cap’n Cod had 
turned to the left, or up along the river-front of 
the town ; Billy Brackett had plunged directly 
into its business portion, intending to keep on 
until he reached the hills beyond, on which stood 
the better class of residences; and Winn had turned 
to the right. 

The young engineer, closely followed by Bim, 
walked for several blocks without seeing or hear- 
ing anything of the runaway monkey. Suddenly, 
with a low growl, Bim started across the street. 
His master was just in time to see a man spring 
into the open doorway of a store, and slam the 
door to as the dog leaped furiously against it. 

The glimpse he caught of the man’s face was 
like a lightning flash, but it was enough. He 
knew him to be the raftsman who had kicked 
Bim, and whom he had rescued from the dog’s 
teeth at Mandrake, more than a week before. 
“He is one of those scoundrels who stole the 
Venture, and if I can only trace him I’ll find 
the raft,” thought the young man, as he dashed 
across the street after Bim. 


196 Raftmates : 

Seizing the dog’s collar, and bidding him be 
quiet, he opened the door of the store and stepped 
inside. There was no one to be seen, save the 
proprietor and two or three startled-looking clerks. 

“Where is he?” demanded Billy Brackett, hur- 
riedly. “ The man, I mean, who ran in here just 
now !” 

“ That dog ought to be killed, and if you don’t 
take him out of here at once I’ll call the police,” 
said the proprietor of the store, indignantly. “ It’s 
an outrage to allow such brutes to run at large.” 

“ That’s the reason I’m holding him,” said Billy 
Brackett ; “ but where is the man ?” 

“ I don’t know ; but I hope he has gone for his 
gun, and will know how to use it too. If he 
don’t, I — ” 

The young engineer did not wait to hear more, 
for at that moment he spied a back door standing 
partly open. That was where his man had gone, 
and without paying any further attention to the 
irate shopkeeper, he dashed out through it with 
Bim at his heels. 

Winn searched high and low, with the utmost 
faithfulness, until he reached the outskirts of the 
town, but without finding a trace of the missing 
Don Blossom. There was a growth of timber 
lining the river-bank, just beyond the houses, and 
the boy ventured a little way into this, arguing 


197 


A Story of the Great River . 

that a monkey would naturally take to trees. It 
was so wet and dripping in the timber that he 
only remained there a few minutes; but as he 
turned to retrace his steps, his attention was di- 
verted by a new object of interest. 

He was on a bank of the river, beside which 
was moored a raft. It was a timber raft, with a 
single large “ shanty,” that had a strangely familiar 
look, standing amidship. 

“ It isn’t the Venture, of course,” thought Winn ; 
U but I’ll just step aboard and inquire if they 
have seen anything of a raft with a “ shanty” and a 
tent on it. It will save us some time when we 
get started down the river again.” 

So thinking, the boy stepped lightly aboard. 
His footfalls were deadened by the wet, so that 
he gained the forward end of the “shanty” with- 
out attracting attention. The door was closed, 
and Winn was startled to note how very familiar 
that gable end of the building looked. He raised 
his hand to knock at the door, when suddenly it 
was flung open, and a harsh voice asked, “ What 
do you want % and what are you doing here, young 
man ?” 

As Winn was about to reply his glance pene- 
trated the interior of the “shanty,” and for an 
instant he stood speechless. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE RAFT AND THE SHOW-BOAT CHANGE CREWS. 

It must be remembered that while Winn would 
have recognized Mr. Gilder, he had not seen the 
other “ river-traders,” Plater and Grimshaw. Of 
these two, the former had not set eyes on the lad 
whose raft they had stolen ; but the latter had 
caught a glimpse of him, and now, as he noted 
Winn’s startled glance into the interior of the 
“shanty,” it flashed into his mind who this intru- 
sive boy was. 

The “river-traders” had not really expected 
Winn to follow them. They imagined that after 
he escaped from the island, which they hoped he 
would not do for several days, he would be glad 
enough to make the best of his way home. Still, 
they had taken the precaution of disguising the 
Venture by throwing the wheat overboard, tear- 
ing down the buildings in which it had been 
stowed, and erecting a tent in place of one of 
them. As they were well provided with various 
changes of wigs and beards, they felt quite safe 
until Billy Brackett boarded the raft for the second 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 199 

time, and made inquiries for one having three 
“ shanties.” Then they realized that a search was 
beiug made for them, or, at least, for the craft 
from which they were operating. 

They felt somewhat easier when one of their 
number, detailed to watch the movements of their 
unwelcome visitor, returned and reported that he 
had gone back up the river. Still, they thought it 
well to again alter the appearance of the raft by 
removing the tent, and so lengthening the “ shanty ” 
as to materially change its aspect. They also al- 
lowed the raft to drift night and day for nearly 
five hundred miles without a pause. Then, again 
feeling safe from pursuit, they tied up just below 
the City of Alton, Illinois, and prepared to resume 
their dishonest business. 

Their plan of operations was to purchase goods 
wherever they stopped, but always in such small 
quantities that for the bills they tendered in pay- 
ment they received a certain amount of good 
money in change. A little farther along they 
would offer the goods thus accumulated for sale 
so cheaply that they readily disposed of them. In 
this way they not only did a thriving business, but 
kept up the appearance of being what they claimed 
to be — “ river-traders ” and raftsmen. 

In this wicked scheme of cheating and stealing, 
Plater and Grimshaw felt no scruples nor regrets ; 


200 Raftmates : 

but with Mr. Gilder, especially after his meeting 
with Sabella, the case was different. He was 
a man of gentlemanly instincts, and was a skil- 
ful engraver, who had worked in the Govern- 
ment Printing-office at Washington for several 
years. There he was extravagant, got into debt, 
yielded to the temptation to make a fortune easily, 
and became a counterfeiter. The present under- 
taking was his first experience in that line of 
wickedness, and he was already heartily sick of it. 
While on the island, where his part of the work 
was engraving and printing, he had not realized 
the contemptible nature of his unlawful business. 
He had merely been filled with pride in his own 
skill, which feeling his associates took good care 
to encourage by artful praise. 

When he met Sabella, it flashed across him for 
the first time that his own little girl, far away in 
an eastern city, was the daughter of a criminal, 
and from that moment he was a changed man. 
Through the long days and longer nights, as the 
raft drifted down the great river, these thoughts 
were ever with him : “ What will she say when 
she finds it out? How will she act? Will she 
ever kiss me, or even speak to me again ? I have 
made her very name a disgrace. What shall I do 
to wipe it out? What shall I do?” 

His companions noticed his strange mood, and 


201 


A Story of the Great River. 

jeered at him, but failed to change it. Finally 
they became suspicious, and held secret consulta- 
tions as to how they should rid themselves of him. 
They finally determined to accomplish this in 
some way at St. Louis, and so matters stood when 
they made their stop at Alton. Here they in- 
tended remaining until they had transacted a satis- 
factory amount of business. Thus, on the foggy 
morning following Don Blossom’s escape from the 
Whatnot , Messrs Gilder and Plater had gone into 
the town to familiarize themselves with its locali- 
ties, while Grimshaw was left to look out for the 
raft. Now Winn Caspar had accidentally discov- 
ered it, and recognized it as the Venture. 

He did not know the man standing in the door- 
way and looking so curiously at him, nor did he 
suppose himself known by the other. So, with a 
great effort, he strove to conceal the tumult of his 
feelings, and to appear natural and self-possessed. 
He answered the man’s curt inquiry regarding his 
business there by saying, in as pleasant a tone as 
he could command, that he was searching for a 
lost monkey, which he thought might have taken 
to the timber beside which this raft was moored. 
“You startled me by throwing open your door so 
suddenly just as I was about to knock,” he con- 
tinued ; “ but you haven’t seen anything of a stray 
monkey this morning, have you ?” 


202 Eaftmates : 

“Hot until this moment,” answered the man, 
surlily, “ and I don’t want to see any more of him. 
Good-day.” 

With this he slammed the door in the boy’s 
face, and then, stealing on tiptoe to a window, 
watched for his departure from the raft. 

To say that Mr. Grimshaw was rendered uneasy 
and apprehensive by this sudden appearance of 
one whom he supposed to be hundreds of miles 
away, and who was also the very person he was 
most anxious to avoid, would by no means express 
his feelings. He was so terrified and unnerved 
that for a moment he thought of leaving the raft 
to its fate, and making good his own escape while 
he had time. Then he wondered if it would not 
be better to cast it loose and drift away through 
the fog to some new hiding-place. It would never 
do to go without his partners, though ; for, in the 
first place, he could not manage the raft alone, and 
in the second there was no knowing what Gilder 
would do if he thought himself deserted and per- 
haps betrayed. Ho, he must find his associates 
without delay, and warn them of this unexpected 
danger. He wondered if the boy were alone. Per- 
haps he had friends in hiding near by, to whom he 
had gone to report. In that case his own safety 
demanded that he discover them before they 
reached the raft. The boy had already disappeared 


A Story of the Great River. 203 

in the timber, and there was no time to be lost in 
following him. 

Thus reasoning, Grimshaw left the “ shanty,” 
locking its door behind him as he did so, and 
springing ashore, hastened up the trail, along which 
Winn had disappeared a few seconds before. It 
took him about three minutes to reach the far 
edge of the timber and outskirts of the town. 
Here several streets began, and as he could not 
follow them all, he was brought to a halt. Which 
way should he go now ? He had seen nothing of 
the boy, whom he certainly ought to have over- 
taken before this, nor of any other person. Could 
he have passed them ? Where should he look for 
Gilder and Plater? Would it not be better, after 
all, to await their return on the raft? Of course it 
would. He had been a fool to leave it, and now 
his best plan was to get back to it as quickly as 
possible. 

These thoughts occupied less than a minute, 
and so impatient was the man to regain the raft 
he had just left that inside of two minutes more 
he again stood on the river-bank. He had been 
gone barely five minutes, and in that time he had 
not seen a human being. Now he could not see 
the raft. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. 
He could see a few rods of water, but beyond that 
the fog was impenetrable. He shouted, but there 


°20J/. Raftmates : 

was no answer. Perhaps this was not the place. 
He ran a little way up the shore, and then as 
far in the opposite direction, but without success. 
Then he returned to his starting-point, and found 
the end of a rope. It was attached to a tree, and 
had been cut. It was a bit of the line that had 
held the raft, and the raft was gone. 

The blow was a heavy one, and for a few min- 
utes Grimshaw stood like one who is stunned. 
The loss of that raft, under the circumstances, 
meant ruin. It meant the loss of everything he 
had or cared for in the world. At first the reali- 
zation of this loss rendered him speechless. Then 
he began to rave and revile his own carelessness. 
After a few minutes devoted to this he again 
started up the trail. He was determined to pro- 
cure some craft and start in instant pursuit of the 
raft. He would go in company with his partners 
if he ran across them, but alone if he did not. 
Before he reached the far edge of the timber he 
met Plater running and breathless. 

“Get back to the raft!” shouted the new- 
comer. “ They’re after us !” 

“ They’ve got us,” was the bitter answer. “ At 
least they’ve got the raft, and we must hunt some 
boat in which to follow them at once.” 

A few words more explained the situation, and, 
angry as he was, Plater did not stop to waste time 


205 


A Story of the Great River . 

in idle reproaches just then. He only said, “ It’s 
that sneak Gilder’s doings, I’ll bet my pile.” 

Grimshaw agreed to this, and as they hurried 
along they both thought of their partner as float- 
ing down the river on the raft in company with 
their enemies and glorying over their discom- 
fiture. 

“ We’ll get even with him, though,” growled 
Plater. 

“ Yes, we will,” snarled Grimshaw. 

And then they met the object of their anger 
hurrying away from the levee which they were 
approaching. 

“ Where are you fellows going ?” he cried, and 
then, in a lower tone, he added, “ We’ve got to 
get out of here in a hurry, for they are in this 
very town and looking for us. I’ve just come 
from their boat.” 

“Who have they left aboard?” asked Grim- 
shaw. 

“ Only a child,” was the answer. 

“ Let us take a look at it, then, so we will know 
it as well as you the next time we see it.” 

So Mr. Gilder went back to point out the What- 
not to his companions, and when they sprang 
aboard and began to cast off the lines that held it 
to the levee he followed them, with a vague idea 
of protecting Sabella. 


206 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

The next moment, Solon, who had just finished 
hitching up Reward, was startled by the ringing 
of the engine-room bell. It w^as the signal to 
go ahead. Thinking that the others must have 
returned and were ready to start, he obeyed it. 
Thus the Whatnot , in full possession of the “ river- 
traders,” moved slowly out into the stream, and 
again started in pursuit of the raft she had fol- 
lowed for so long. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


A DISASTROUS COLLISION. 

The running off with that boat from the water- 
front of a city in broad daylight was a bold thing 
to do. But these men were accustomed to taking 
desperate risks, and had done many more reckless 
things than this in the course of their lawless ca- 
reers ; besides, they expected to overtake the raft 
within an hour or so, when they would send the 
boat back to its owner, or leave it where he 
could find it. They did not yet understand 
the connection between Cap’n Cod, whom they 
knew as the proprietor of the Whatnot, and those 
who were interested in the recovery of the raft. 
That made no difference, however. It was enough 
that this boat had been used in their pursuit, and 
that by taking it they might delay this pursuit 
until they should recover the raft and make good 
their escape. Besides, it happened to be the only 
available boat lying at the levee just then, and 
they would have taken it even though they had 
been obliged to use force to gain its possession, so 
eager were they to recapture the Venture. 


208 Raftmates : 

This was the reasoning of two of the “river- 
traders while the third sprang aboard because 
the others did, and without stopping to reason. 
Grimshaw made his way at once to the pilot- 
house, where Mr. Gilder followed him, in order to 
learn his plans. Plater walked aft, and through 
the engine-room window saw that the mule was 
already in his treadmill, where Solon had just com- 
pleted his harnessing. Without alarming the negro 
by making his presence known, the big man stole 
away, and gaining the pilot-house, rang the en- 
gine-room bell that meant “ Go ahead.” To tlm 
great satisfaction of at least two of the “river- 
traders ” this order was promptly obeyed. Within 
a couple of minutes the city had disappeared, and 
the Whatnot was slipping down the fog-enshroud- 
ed river. 

“ What is the meaning of this ?” demanded Mr. 
Gilder, as he followed Grimshaw into the pilot- 
house. “Are you crazy that you are going off 
with this boat and leaving the raft behind ? Or 
do you mean to run in to where it is, take our 
stuff aboard, and continue the cruise in this craft ? 
Because if you do, you can count me out. This 
is too conspicuous a boat for my use. Why, man, 
she’ll be spotted by the police inside of 'twenty- 
four hours !” 

“ I expect it’s about time we counted you out, 


209 


A Story of the Great River. 

anyway,” answered the other, gruffly. “Plater 
and I have about made up our minds that you are 
playing a double game, and had some hand in the 
disappearance of the raft.” 

“ The disappearance of the raft ?” exclaimed the 
other, blankly. “ What do you mean ? How did 
the raft disappear? And when did it disappear? 
And where were you, whom we left to look after 
it ? If you have lost that raft you’ll answer to me 
for my share in it, and I’ll see that you make it 
good too, you sneaking — ” 

“ Come, come, Gilder ! Simmer down !” inter- 
rupted Plater, who had entered the pilot-house in 
time to hear these angry words. “This isn’t the 
time nor place for us to quarrel. We’ve too much 
at stake. The raft has gone, and we are after it. 
That’s all Grim and I know. Whatever informa- 
tion you can give concerning its disappearance will 
be gratefully received. 

The interchange of high words that followed had 
almost led to blows, when Mr. Gilder suddenly be- 
came silent, and stepped quickly to the pilot-house 
door. He had just caught sight of Sabella hold- 
ing Don Blossom in her arms, and staring through 
the open doorway with an expression of frightened 
bewilderment. She had expected to find her uncle 
and Billy Brackett and Winn, and had hastened to 
announce the joyful news of Don Blossom’s safety. 

14 


%10 Raftmates : 

How as Mr. Gilder led her aft and down into 
the living-room, he strove to banish that fright- 
ened look by gentle words and reassuring promises. 

“ But where is my Uncle Aleck? And where 
are Mr. Brackett and Winn? I can’t find them 
anywhere. Solon said they were in the pilot- 
house.” 

“ They are on the raft, and we are going to find 
them,” was the answer. 

“ Oh, I’m so glad they’ve got the raft again! And 
I’m glad you gave it back to them, too. How, 
Winn can’t say you are a bad man any longer. 
But you’ve only borrowed the Whatnot for a little 
while, haven’t you ?” 

“ Yes, only for a little while.” 

“ I don’t think those others are very nice-looking 
men, and I was awfully afraid until I saw you. 
Then I knew it must be all right.” 

“ It is all right, little one, and there is nothing 
for you to be afraid of. Ho harm shall come to 
you so long as I am here, and I promise to see you 
safe with your friends again before leaving you. 
You see, I am making believe that you are my own 
little girl, and I want you to feel just as safe and 
happy as she would if she were here in your 
place.” 

“ Of course I feel safe now,” answered Sabella, 
promptly. “ I have, ever since I found out it was 


211 


A Story of the Great River. 

you who had borrowed the Whatnot. For a min- 
ute, though, I was afraid those disagreeable — ” 
Here the child hesitated. She did not want to 
hurt her new friend’s feelings. “I mean,” she 
added, hastily, “that those other gentlemen had 
stolen it. And I will make believe I am your own 
little girl, for I haven’t any papa, and only one 
uncle in the world. I wish you would tell me 
your name, though. I don’t think I ever knew 
any one so well before without knowing his name.” 

The man hesitated, and looked curiously at the 
sweet face upturned to his. Then, as though ar- 
rived at a sudden conclusion, he said, 

“ My name is Gresham, William Gresham, but 
my little girl calls me ‘ Papa Billy.’ ” 

“ Then we’ll make a bargain !” exclaimed Sabella, 
joyfully. “That’s the very name of Winn’s uncle; 
and if I make believe you are my uncle, I shall 
have an Uncle Billy as well as he. I think that’s 
better, too, because you know a girl couldn’t have 
but one own papa, but she might have a hundred 
uncles if she wanted. So we’ll make that a bar- 
gain, and I’ll give you a kiss if you like, because 
Uncle Aleck says that’s always the other part of a 
bargain.” 

With the kiss of the innocent child warm on his 
lips, William Gresham returned to the upper deck. 
His heart was very tender at that moment, and 


212 


Raftmates : 

though he did not express any resolve in words, 
he knew that a black page of his life had just been 
closed, never to be reopened. He met Plater com- 
ing to find him, for he was wanted to aid in keep- 
ing the sharp lookout that the fog rendered nec- 
essary. 

With all their senses alert and strained, the 
“ river-traders ” kept on for two hours without dis- 
covering a trace of the raft. Then they knew they 
must have passed it, and so headed the Whatnot 
up-stream again, hoping to meet it. How they 
barely held their own, without making any progress, 
for they knew the raft would drift in the channel 
with the strongest current, and therefore that 
where the water ran swiftest they must await its 
coming. 

Solon, fully occupied with his duties as engineer 
and with preparations for dinner, paid little heed 
to Sabella when she looked in at the galley door 
to inform him that her Uncle Billy said everything 
was all right. 

“ I specs so, honey, I specs so, an’ of co’se hit’s 
all right ef yo’ Unc’ Billy say so. Him a mighty 
knowin 5 young gen’l’man, dat ar Unc 5 Billy am, 
fo 5 shuah . 55 

As the day advanced, there were occasional rifts 
in the fog, and in one of these Mr. Gilder, as we 
will still call him, caught a momentary glimpse 


A Story of the Great River. 213 

of the raft. It was drifting at some distance to 
the right of them, and in a few moments would 
be again out of sight. His first impulse was to 
announce this discovery to his companions, and 
his second was to remain silent. He acted upon 
the second, and was almost doubtful if he had really 
seen the raft at all, so quickly did it again disap- 
pear. Suddenly there came a sound of blows, as 
though some one were chopping wood on board 
the raft. 

There was an exulting shout from the pilot- 
house, the steering-wheel was put hard over, and 
the boat began to swing slowly at right angles to 
the current. She was headed in the direction of 
the raft, and Mr. Gilder knew that, owing to those 
ill-timed blows, it had been discovered. Yes. Now 
he could see it again. There it was, not a hundred 
yards away, and the Whatnot was headed so as to 
intercept it as it came down. What should he do? 
It would be foolish to struggle for possession of 
the wheel against the two desperate men in the 
pilot-house. He could stop the machinery though, 
or, better still, reverse it, and so give the raft a 
chance to drift past and again disappear in the 
mist. For Sabella’s sake he would make the 
attempt. 

He had already started for the lower deck, when 
his steps were arrested by a second shout from the 


%1J+ Raftmates : 

pilot-house, and another sound that smote on his 
ear like a death-knell. It was the hoarse note of 
a deep-toned whistle apparently at his side. There 
was a jangling of bells, a wild yelling, the roar of 
escaping steam, and then the dim form of a great 
up-river packet loomed above the little craft on 
which he stood like some awful fog monster in- 
tent upon its destruction. 

The man stood at the head of the steps leading 
down into the living-room, where Sabella, uncon- 
scious of the impending peril, was singing a quaint 
old hymn as she set the table for dinner. He had 
heard his mother sing that hymn when he was a 
boy at home. So long ago, and so far away. A 
second more and this sweet young life would be 
blotted out, and the little body, crushed beyond 
recognition, would be buried deep beneath the 
waters of the great river, while he would be safe 
on the lower deck of that steamboat. He could 
easily spring to it from the upper deck of the 
Whatnot, as he saw Plater and Grimshaw were 
about to do. 

“I promise to see you safe with your friends 
again.” That was what he had said, and it was 
to that child he had said it. In another instant 
the man had entered the living-room, seized Sa- 
bella in his powerful arms, and had gained the 
outer door on the side farthest from the steamboat. 


215 


A Story of the Great River. 

Then came the shock. There was a moment of 
horrible grinding, crashing, and splintering, a mad 
surging of brown waters, and then the little show- 
boat passed beneath the monster that had* crushed 
out its life. It was gone as utterly as the flame of 
a candle is extinguished by a puff of wind, and 
the great river was its grave, as it has been of 
thousands of other craft, and will be of thousands 
yet unbuilt. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


IS THIS OUR RAPT OR NOT? 

So anxious was Winn Caspar for the recovery 
of the raft lost through his carelessness and over- 
confidence in his own ability that, having found 
it again, he could not bear to lose sight of it, even 
though he had no idea of how he might regain its 
possession. Therefore, as he stepped ashore after 
his rebuff by Grimshaw, he only went so far up 
the trail through the timber as to be concealed 
from the man’s view. Then he darted into the 
undergrowth and crept back to the river-bank. 
He reached it just in time to see Grimshaw lock 
the door of the “ shanty,” leave the raft, and start 
up the trail that he himself had taken but a min- 
ute before. 

How long would the man be gone ? Was there 
any one left on the raft ? These were the questions 
that came into the boy’s mind. There was no 
sign of life on the Venture , and by running a short 
distance up the trail Winn became convinced that 
the man had gone at least as far as the edge of 
the timber. Would he ever again have so good 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 217 

a chance of recovering his father’s property ? 
Besides, what a fine thing it would be for him to 
recapture the raft alone, without the aid of Billy 
Brackett or any one else. This latter thought de- 
cided the boy, and caused him to hastily retrace his 
steps. 

Never had Winn been so excited ! As he 
sprang aboard the raft and tried to cast off its 
fastenings he momentarily expected to hear a 
shout from the bank or a gruff demand from the 
interior of the “ shanty ” as to what he was about. 
Perhaps the summons would take the form of a 
pistol-shot, for men who would steal a raft and 
destroy a thousand dollars’ worth of wheat would 
not be likely to hesitate at anything. At this last 
thought Winn seemed to feel the deadly sting of a 
bullet, and in his nervousness only made more 
intricate the knot he was trying to untie. At 
length he whipped out his jack-knife and cut the 
rope. 

Now to head the raft out into the stream. He 
picked up a long set-pole, thrust one end into the 
bank, braced himself, and began to push. Oh, 
how he strained and panted ! How the veins stood 
out on his forehead ! Still the great mass of tim- 
ber seemed immovable. Again and again he tried, 
and at length felt a slight yield. A more desper- 
ate effort than before, and he could take a step ; 


218 


Raftmates : 

then another, and another, until he had walked 
half the length of the pole. The head of the raft 
was swinging off, at first so slowly that the motion 
was almost imperceptible, then faster, until fin- 
ally it felt the full force of the current. Now for 
one more effort! If he could only work her out 
from the bank and into the friendly shelter of the 
fog without discovery, he would feel safe even 
from pistol-shots. For two minutes Winn labored 
as never before in all his life. But the minutes 
seemed hours, and he felt that he might as well 
attempt to push away the bank itself as the mass 
of timber on which he stood. Suddenly he heard 
that which he expected and dreaded, a shout, so 
loud that it seemed to be uttered on the raft. 
The set-pole fell from his nerveless grasp as he 
looked up, fully expecting to gaze into the black 
muzzle of a pistol. 

At first he saw — nothing. He must be turned 
around. No; the view of the opposite direction 
was equally blank. Then, for an instant, he 
caught a glimpse of shadowy tree-tops just dis- 
solving into formless mist. The blessed fog had 
folded its protecting arms about him, and he was 
safe. 

Hurrah ! he was once more in undisputed posses- 
sion of the raft, and once more floating on it down 
the great river. 


219 


A Story of the Great River . 

Wildly happy, the exhausted boy flung him- 
self down on the wet planks, and yielded to 
pleasant reflections. It was only twenty miles to 
St. Louis. The current was carrying him at the 
rate of five miles an hour, so that he ought to 
reach the city soon after noon. There he would 
hail some steamboat or tug, and get it to tow his 
raft to a safe mooring - place. Then he would 
telegraph to both his father and his Uncle Billy. 
After that he would engage some stout man to 
help guard the raft until his friends arrived. Or 
perhaps he would buy a revolver and guard it 
himself, and when his father and Uncle Billy came 
along, he would challenge them before allowing 
them to step on board. Yes, that would be the 
scheme, and the boy became very proud of him- 
self as he thought of the praises in store for him. 

At length Winn rose from his moist resting- 
place, and began to examine his surroundings. 
How strange the raft did look, to be sure. He 
wouldn’t have believed its appearance could have 
been so altered, and now wondered that he had 
ever recognized it. In fact, the only feature that 
seemed at all familiar, as he studied it, was the 
forward gable end of the “ shanty.” But some- 
how' the building itself appeared much longer than 
when he last'saw it. Still, there was that interior. 
He had seen the partition, with its door leading 


220 Raftmates : 

into his own little room, and he never heard of a 
raft “ shanty ” with a partition in it until this one 
was built. He must have another look at that in- 
terior. 

The locked door baffled him. It was of such 
solid construction, and its lock was so well made, 
that it resisted all his efforts to force it. The win- 
dows were provided with heavy wooden shutters 
that were fastened on the inside. For an hour 
Winn busied himself with vain efforts to effect an 
entrance. At the end of that time he was dis- 
couraged. He was also uneasy. He had heard 
steamboats pass him, but could see nothing of them 
on account of the fog. The last one passed very 
close. The next might run him down. How he 
wished the raft were safely tied to some bank or 
levee. It was awful to be thus blindly drifting, 
right in the track of steamboats. The fog hung 
so low over the water that their pilots were lifted 
well above it, and could see the landmarks by 
which they were guided. They could also see other 
steamboats ; but such things as scows and rafts 
had no business to be moving at such a time. 
They were supposed to be snugly tied up, and 
consequently no pilot would be on the look- 
out for them. Winn knew this as well as any 
one, and the knowledge did not tend to reassure 
him. 


m 


A Story of the Great River. 

If he only had some one with him to help work 
the heavy sweeps by which the raft’s course might 
be directed, or even to advise him what to do. It 
was dreadful to be alone. What a foolish thing he 
had done, after all, in attempting to manage this 
affair by himself. If he had only gone back for 
Billy Brackett. But his boyish pride in his own 
ability had again overcome his. judgment, and now 
he must abide by the consequences. 

“ I only hope, if I do get run down and killed, 
they will find out who I am,” thought the poor 
boy. “ It would be horrid to disappear and have 
folks say I was a coward, who had run away for 
fear father would be angry with me for losing his 
raft. As if my father would ever do anything to 
make me afraid of him! And mother! How badly 
she would feel if I should disappear without ever 
giving her the comfort of knowing I was dead. 
There is Elta, too, and the very last time I saw her 
I was ugly to her. Oh dear ! I wish — well, I wish, 
for one thing, that I could get inside that “ shanty,” 
and out of this miserable drizzle. I wonder if I 
can’t pick the lock ?” 

Full of this new idea, Winn obtained a bit of stiff 
wire from the handle of a lantern that stood out- 
side the “ shanty.” This he bent as well as he 
could into the rude form of a key, and thus 
equipped, he worked patiently at the lock for 


222 Baftmates : 

another hour. At length he threw away the use- 
less implement in disgust. 

“ I was never cut out for a burglar, that’s cer- 
tain !” he exclaimed. “There’s one thing I can 
do, though, and I will, too. I can smash down the 
door, and get inside that way.” 

An axe lay beside a pile of wood near the for- 
ward end of the raft ; and armed with this, the boy 
began to rain vigorous blows upon the stout door. 
Before these it quickly yielded, and he thus gained 
the interior. 

Once inside, he gazed about him blankly. Noth- 
ing looked familiar ; nothing was as he had expected 
to find it. There was the partition, with a door in 
it, to be sure, and there was the small room beyond 
the main one; but there was also another parti- 
tion, and another door beyond this. There had 
been but two rooms in the Venture's “shanty,” 
while here were three. Then again the “ shanty ” 
that he had helped to build was only boarded up 
on the outside, while the interior had been left 
unceiled, with the frame exposed. The interior on 
which he now gazed was wholly ceiled, so as to 
make the walls of double thickness, and conceal 
every bit of the framing. 

The perplexed boy noticed these details at a 
glance; and as he stood staring blankly about him, 
the uncomfortable suspicion began to force itself 


A Story of the Great River. 2°2S 

into his mind that perhaps this was not the Vent - 
ure after all. 

“ If I have run off with some one else’s raft, I 
declare I shall just want to disappear!” he ex- 
laimed to himself. “ I do believe I shall be too 
ashamed ever to go home again. Oh dear ! 
There is another steamboat.” 

The notes of a deep-voiced whistle, evidently 
near at hand, caused the boy to hasten outside. 
He could see a huge confused mass dimly loom- 
ing out of the fog ahead, and a little to one side of 
him. At the same moment he heard the wild 
jangling of bells, the terrified shoutings, and then 
the awful crash that denoted a collision. A big 
up-bound steamboat had run down and sunk a 
smaller boat of some kind. That much he could 
see, and he was filled with horror at the nearness 
and magnitude of the disaster. 

He had heard agonized screams, and knew that 
lives had been sacrificed. One shrill cry that 
came to his ears with startling distinctness sound- 
ed as though uttered by a woman or a girl, and 
Winn shuddered at the thought of her fate. 

The raft was drifting rapidly away from the 
scene of the catastrophe, and the dimly discerned 
steamboat was just disappearing from his view, 
when the boy thought he heard a gurgling cry 
from the water. Could some bold swimmer have 


%2Jf Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

escaped ? He bent his head to the water’s edge 
and listened. Again he heard the cry. And this 
time it seemed nearer. Some human being was 
struggling in the river. How, if ever, was the 
time for his promptest action, and with Winn 
thought and action went hand in hand. 

In another moment he was in the skiff belong- 
ing to the raft, and pulling with all the strength 
of his stout young arms in the direction of the 
cries. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE RESCUE OF SABELLA. 

Strongly as Winn pulled, the cries grew very 
faint and almost inaudible during the few seconds 
that elapsed before he discovered the struggling 
forms from which they proceeded. A glance over 
his shoulder showed him a man swimming with 
one arm, while the other supported a child — ap- 
parently a girl. 

With a final powerful stroke the skiff shot 
alongside the drowning figures, the oars were 
jerked in, and Winn, leaning over the side, seized 
the girl’s arm. At the same moment the man 
grasped the gunwale of the skiff. It was no slight 
task for Winn to get the girl into the boat, for 
she was unconscious, and formed a dead weight, 
that was made heavier by her soaked clothing. 
He finally succeeded ; and as he laid the limp 
form in the bottom of the skiff and took his first 
good look at her face, he uttered a cry of amaze- 
ment, and doubted the evidence of his senses. 
How was it possible that Sabella could be there, 
and in* such a predicament ? Could the boat that 
15 


226 llaftmates : 

had just been run into be the Whatnot ? If so, 
who was this man? He turned to look, and to 
help him into the skiff ; but, to his horror, the 
man had disappeared. 

William Gresham had redeemed his promise 
with his life. From a cruel wound, made by a 
splintered timber, he had bled so freely that his 
fast-failing strength was barely able to hold Sa- 
bella’s head above the surface until Winn came to 
her rescue. He recognized the boy, and as the little 
girl was lifted from his arms, he closed his eyes 
with the peaceful expression of one who is weary 
and would sleep. Then his grasp of the skiff re- 
laxed, and without a struggle he slipped across the 
invisible line dividing time from eternity. The 
hurrying waters closed about him as gently as a 
mother’s arms, and who shall say that in his 
death the man had not atoned for his life, or 
that in the tawny flood of the great river his 
sin was not washed away as though it had never 
been? 

As for Winn, he was overwhelmed and stunned. 
It was so sudden, so terrible, and so pitiful. At 
one moment the man was there, and in the next 
he was gone without a word. In vain did the 
boy look over both sides of the skiff and over its 
stern in the hope that the man might still be 
clinging to it. Only the swift-flowing waters met 



THE RESCUE OF SABELLA 







A Story of the Great River. 227 

his gaze, and seemed to mock at his efforts to 
wrest their secret. 

The man was gone ; there was no doubt of that ; 
and now came the harrowing question, who was 
he? Winn had not seen his face. It could not 
have been the owner of the Whatnot , because, with 
his wooden leg, he could not swim. It was not 
Solon, for the head had been that of a white man. 
Could it have been his mother’s only brother, his 
Uncle Billy, the brave, merry young fellow who 
was to have been his raftmate? Winn had al- 
ready learned to love as well as to admire Billy 
Brackett, though how much he had not known, 
until now that he believed him to be gone out of 
his life forever. 

He tried to believe that it was some one else, 
but in vain. The girl whom he had just rescued 
was certainly Sabella, so of course the boat that 
he had seen crushed like an egg-shell must have 
been the Whatnot. Oh, if he had only been a 
little closer, or if the fog had not been so thick ! 
The boat was almost certain to have been the What- 
not though, and in that case the brave swimmer, 
who had missed safety by a hair’s-breadth must 
have been — 

Here a moan diverted Winn’s attention from 
his own unhappiness, and caused him to spring to 
the side of the little girl. She opened her eyes 


228 Raftmates : 

and looked at him. “ Oh, Sabella !” he cried, 
“ tell me who saved you ? Was it Mr. Brackett — 
my Uncle Billy, you know?” 

“ My Uncle Billy,” she murmured faintly ; then 
she again closed her eyes wearily, and seemed to 
sleep. 

“ It was he, then ; it was he !” And Winn, break- 
ing down, sobbed aloud. “ And all my fault that 
he came on this trip ! My fault, my fault !” he 
repeated over and over again. 

At length he became conscious of the selfishness 
of thus giving way to his feelings while Sabella 
was still in such urgent need of his aid. 

“ I must get her to the raft at once !” he ex- 
claimed, starting up and looking about him. But 
there was no raft, nor was there any steamboat. 
There was nothing but the skiff with themselves 
in it, a small circle of brown water, and the fog. 
He had no idea of direction, not even whether his 
skiff was heading up-stream or down, or drifting 
broadside to the current. If the fog would only 
lift ! It had been so kind to him, but now was so 
dreadful. 

The boy took off his coat, folded it, and put it 
under Sabella’s head. Then he sat beside her and 
rubbed her cold hands. He knew of nothing else 
that he could do for her, and so he waited — waited 
for the fog to lift or for help to come. 


A Story of the Great River . 229 

At length he began to hear sounds from every 
direction, the sound of whistles, bells, and hundreds 
of other noises. He must have reached St. Louis, 
and it would never do to drift past it. Besides, 
the danger of being run down was now greater 
than ever. So the boy took to his oars, and be- 
gan to pull in the direction from which the loud- 
est sound of whistles appeared to come. 

Suddenly he was hailed. “ Look out dar, boss !” 

“Hold on!” shouted Winn. “I am in trouble, 
and will give you a dollar to pilot me ashore.” 

A skiff came alongside. It contained but a sin- 
gle occupant, a negro, who appeared nearly as old 
as Solon. He listened with open-mouthed won- 
der to the boy’s hurriedly told story, and not only 
expressed a ready sympathy, but promised to have 
“ de young gen’l’man an’ der lilly lady lamb on 
de sho’ in fr«e minutes. Ole Clod, him know de 
way. De frog can’t fool him on desh yer ribber.*’ 

With renewed hope Winn followed closely be- 
hind his dusky pilot, and in another minute caught 
sight of the welcome land. It was East St. Louis, 
on the Illinois side of the river, at that time a 
great railroad terminus, and Clod’s little cabin 
stood at the edge of high- water-mark ; for he was 
a boatman, and gained his living from the river. 

“ How, young marse, you mus’ come up to my 
house, whar my ole ’oman fixin’ de lilly gal all 


£30 Raftmates : 

right in no time.” So saying, the negro lifted Sa- 
bella in his strong arms and started towards his 
cabin, to which Winn was only too glad to follow 
him. The boy had never felt 60 utterly helpless 
and forlorn. 

He no longer thought of taking matters into his 
own hands, but was thankful to accept even the 
humble guidance of this negro. Under the cir- 
cumstances he could not have fallen into better 
hands. Not only was Clod strong, willing, and 
possessed of a shrewd knowledge gained by rough 
experience, but his “ ole ’oman,” Aunt Yiney, a 
motherly soul of ample proportions, was account- 
ed the best all-round nurse of the neighborhood. 
She was never happier than when bustling about 
in a service like the present ; and within five 
minutes Sabella was nestled in the snowy centre of 
a huge bed, with Aunt Yiney crooning over her 
like a brooding tenderness, and rapidly restoring 
the color to the child’s pallid cheeks. 

At the same time Winn was sitting by the 
kitchen stove in a cloud of steam from his own 
wet clothing, absorbing warmth and comfort, and 
relating his adventures at length to the sympa- 
thetic old man. 

Clod’s interest and wonder at the boy’s story 
were shown by uplifted hands, rolling eyes, and 
such ejaculations as “ How yo’ talk, chile !” “ W ell, 


231 


A Story of the Great River. 

I nebber!” “Dat’s so, bress de Lawd!” “Ef dat 
ar ain’t de beatenest !” 

At length Aunt Viney tiptoed heavily into the 
kitchen with the joyful announcement that Sa- 
bella, fully restored to consciousness, was sleeping 
naturally and quietly. 

“When she wakin she be all right an’ hongry, 
de honey lamb! An’ I reckin dis young gen’l’- 
man hongry now, an’ ef he ain’t he orter be, fer 
eatin’ am de bestes t’ing in de worl’ when yo’ 
is in trouble,” she added, as she bustled softly 
about, making preparations for a simple meal. 

Winn did not think he could eat a mouthful, so 
full was he of grief and trouble ; but on making 
the attempt, merely to gratify the kindly soul, 
found that he not only could but did dispose of 
as hearty a meal of bread and milk, coffee, bacon, 
and sweet-potatoes, as any he had ever eaten in 
his life. Not only that, but as his faintness from 
hunger disappeared his hopefulness returned, and 
by the time he had finished eating fully half of 
his troubles had vanished. He was still over- 
whelmed with grief at the supposed loss of his 
brave young uncle, but he had already resolved 
upon a plan of action, and felt better for having 
done so. He would send a telegram to his father 
hinting at the great sorrow that had overtaken 
them, and asking him to come on at once. Then 


282 Raftmates : 

he would notify the police of the collision, with its 
probable loss of at least three lives, and ask them 
to keep a watch for the bodies. He would also 
tell them of the lost raft. 

After great searching, Clod finally produced an 
old pen, some very thick ink, and a few sheets of 
paper quite yellow with age. Then he watched 
with respectful admiration the writing of the tele- 
gram, for penmanship was an art he had never ac- 
quired. He offered to take the message to the 
telegraph office while Winn was preparing a 
statement for the police, and as he was evidently 
anxious to be of service, the boy allowed him to 
do so. 

The nearest telegraph office was in the railway 
station, and as Clod approached it he found him- 
self involved in the crowd of passengers just 
brought in by a newly - arrived train from the 
Horth. He dodged here and there among them, 
but finally, in escaping a truck -load of baggage, 
he stumbled over the chain by which a gentleman 
was leading a dog, and plumped full into the arms 
of a white-headed negro who was close behind it. 

“ Scuse me, sah !” began poor Clod, most polite- 
ly. Then he stared, stammered, tried to speak, 
but only choked in the effort, and threw his arms 
about the neck of the old negro, laughing and sob- 
bing in the same breath. 


A Story of the Great River. 233 

“Doesn’t yo’ know me, Solom?” he gasped. 
“Doesn’t yo’ know yer own br’er Clod? Doesn’t 
yo’ ’member de ole plantashun ’way down in Lou- 
’siana, befo’ de wah, an’ Clod?r— yo’ own br’er 
Clod ?” 

Then Solon recognized his only brother, long 
mourned as dead, and the two old men embraced, 
and wept, and held each other off at arm’s-length 
to get a better look at the other’s changed but still 
familiar face. The hurrying passengers smiled at 
this spectacle at once so ridiculous and so pathetic, 
but good-naturedly made way for the old men, 
while Bim, sharing the general excitement, barked 
and danced about, until his chain was entangled 
with the legs of at least half a dozen persons 
at once. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


BIM BRINGS ABOUT A JOYFUL MEETING. 

Even with Bim’s aid, Billy Brackett failed to 
find the man who had escaped him in Alton by 
running through the store and out of its back 
door. The young engineer was convinced that he 
was one of those who had stolen the raft, and it 
was certainly very trying to recover the trail, as 
he had just done, only to lose it again immediate- 
ly. So loath was he to abandon the search that it 
was very nearly noon before he did so, and re- 
traced his steps to the river. As he approached 
the place where the Whatnot had been moored, 
he was surprised not to see the boat, and turned 
towards a group of men, all of whom seemed to be 
talking at once, to make inquiries. At that mo- 
ment the group opened, and from it Cap’n Cod, 
red-faced and anxious, came hastily stumping in 
his direction. 

“ Where is the Whatnot ?” asked Billy Brackett. 

“That’s what I want to know,” replied the 
other, excitedly. “ And where have you been all 
this time? I have been here, and in a state of 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 236 

mind,, for more than an hour, not knowing what 
to do. Some of these men say they saw three 
fellows go off with the boat soon after we left 
here, and of course I thought they must be you, 
Winn, and Solon; but I couldn’t understand it at 
all. Now that you are here, I understand it still 
less. Where is Winn?” Here the old man 
paused, quite out of breath, but still questioning 
his companion with anxious eyes. 

“I haven’t seen anything of Winn since we 
all left the boat,” replied Billy Brackett, who 
could hardly comprehend the startling informa- 
tion just given him. “ Do you mean to say 
that the Whatnot has been stolen ? Great Scott ! 
I wonder if those fellows can have had a hand 
in it?” 

“ What fellows ?” 

Then Billy Brackett told of his fleeting glimpse 
of Plater, and of his consequent belief that the 
raft and all three of the “ river-traders ” must be 
in that vicinity. 

“ There’s a raft, with three men aboard it, who 
call themselves 1 river-traders,’ moored at the edge 
of that timber, just below the city,” volunteered 
one of the by-standers, who had overheard the 
young man’s remarks. 

“ Will you go with me and point it out?” asked 
Billy Brackett, eagerly. 


236 Raftmates : 

“ Yes, I don’t mind, seeing that this weather 
makes a bit of slack time,” replied the man. 

So requesting Cap’n Cod to wait there until 
his return, and promising to be back as quickly as 
possible, the young engineer and his guide, followed 
by several curiosity -seekers, started in search of 
the raft. It is needless to say that they failed to 
find it, though another hour elapsed before Billy 
Brackett returned. He was disappointed, but was 
possessed of a theory. 

“ I believe Winn has found that raft,” he said 
to Cap’n Cod, as they sat together in the small 
hotel to which they had repaired for a consultation 
and dinner. “But he probably discovered it just 
as those fellows, alarmed at meeting me, were 
putting off for another run down the river. Then 
he hurried back here, and not finding us, took the 
responsibility of starting after them in the What- 
not , hoping in that way to keep them in sight. 
It was a crazy performance, though just such a one 
as that boy would undertake. He is a splendid 
fellow, with the one conspicuous failing of believ- 
ing that he knows what to do under any circum- 
stances just a little better than any one else. So 
he has persuaded Solon that it is their duty to 
keep that raft in sight until it is tied up again, and 
then he’ll telegraph to us. It is more than likely 
that the raft will stop at St. Louis, in which case 


A Story of the Great River. 237 

they must be nearly there by this time, and we 
ought to hear from Winn very soon. That is my 
theory, and now I’ll run up to the telegraph office 
and see if a despatch has come.” 

There was no message for any one named 
Brackett, and so, after leaving word to have any- 
thing that came for him sent to the hotel, the 
young man hastened back. An up-river steam- 
boat had just made fast to the levee, and the two 
anxious men went down to see if her pilot had 
seen anything of the Whatnot. As they approached 
they saw by her splintered bows that she had been 
in a collision. Others had noticed this also, and 
already a crowd of people was gathered about her 
gang-plank to learn the news. Forcing a way 
through for himself and Cap’n Cod, Billy Brack- 
ett boarded the boat, and went directly to the Cap- 
tain’s room. 

The Captain was inclined to be ugly and un- 
communicative ; but, with a happy thought, Billy 
Brackett displayed the badge with which Sheriff 
Biley had provided him. At sight of it the man 
at once expressed his readiness to impart all the 
information they might require. 

Yes, he had been in collision with a trading- 
scow, but there were no lives lost, and the dam- 
age had already been satisfactorily settled. It 
happened a couple of miles above St. Louis, and 


238 Raftmates : 

the fog was so thick that she was not seen until 
they were right on her. She was crossing the 
channel, and they struck her amidship, sinking 
her almost instantly. 

Her name ? Why, according to this paper, it 
was the Whatnot. Queer sort of a name, and she 
looked to be a queer sort of craft. 

At this Billy Brackett’s face grew very pale, 
while poor Cap’n Cod sank into a chair and 
groaned. 

“No lives lost, you say? What then became 
of the people who were on board that trading- 
scow ?” 

“ There were only three,” answered the Captain ; . 
“her owner, a Mr. Caspar, a deck hand, and the 
cook, a black fellow. The first two saved them- 
selves by leaping aboard this boat just as she 
struck, and we picked the nigger up in the skiff 
that we immediately lowered to look for surviv- 
ors.” 

“ You say the owner was a Mr. Caspar?” 

“Yes, here is the name signed to this paper. 
You see, though we were in no way to blame, they 
might have sued for heavy damages and bothered 
us considerably. So when her owner offered to 
compromise and waive all claims for three hun- 
dred dollars, I thought it was the cheapest way 
out of the scrape, and took him up. I had this 


289 


A Story of the Great River. 

paper prepared by a lawyer who is on board, and 
witnessed before a notary, so that it is all square 
and ship-shape. See, hero is Mr. Caspar’s signa- 
ture.” 

Sure enough, there at the bottom of the paper 
exhibited by the Captain was the name “Winn 
Caspar,” written clearly and boldly. It certainly 
looked like Winn’s signature. 

Billy Brackett was staggered. What could it 
all mean ? Something was evidently wrong ; but 
what it was he could not determine. 

“ Where is this Mr. Caspar now ?” he asked. 

“Went ashore the moment we touched here,” 
was the reply. “ Said he must hurry back to St. 
Louis. Took his man with him.” 

“ Was he a young fellow ; a mere boy, in fact ?” 

“ Oh, bless you, no ! He was past middle-age. 
Small, thin man, with a smooth face ; and the 
other was a big man with a beard.” 

“And what became of the cook, the negro, 
whom you rescued ?” 

“ He’s down below somewhere, getting dry. I 
told the mate to look after him.” 

“But where is my niece Sabella? The little 
girl that was on board the Whatnotf asked Cap’n 
Cod, with a pitiful quaver in his voice. 

“ Little girl ?” repeated the steamboat Captain, in 
surprise. “ There wasn’t any girl on board. This 


%JfO Raftmates : 

is the first mention I have heard of any such per- 
son, and Mr. Caspar would surely have spoken of 
her if she had existed. What are you men driv- 
ing at, anyway ?” 

With a forced calmness, and ignoring this ques- 
tion, Billy Brackett asked if they might see the 
rescued negro. 

“ Certainly, I’ve no objections. Only you’ll have 
to be spry about it, for I’m going to pull out of 
here inside of a couple of minutes. I only stopped 
to land Mr. Caspar.” 

They found Solon just getting into his dried 
clothing, and the faithful fellow’s face lighted as 
he saw them. There was, however, a reproachful 
tone in his voice as he exclaimed, “ T’ank de Lawd, 
yo’ is safe, Marse Cap’n, an’ Marse Brack. Ole 
Solon feelin’ mighty bad when yo’ ain’t cornin’ to 
see him, an’ Marse Winn too. But dese yeah 
folk ain’t tellin’ me nuffin of Missy Sabel. She 
gettin’ saved same as de res’ of us, ain’t she ? Say 
de good word, Marse Cap’n, an’ don’t tell de ole 
man dat honey lamb done got drownded. Don’t 
tell him dat ar?” 

There was no time for explanations then, so 
they hurried Solon ashore and up to the hotel. 
There his replies to their questions, and his ques- 
tions in turn, only served to deepen the mystery 
in which the fate of the Whatnot's passengers 


A Story of the Great River. 2J/.1 

had become involved. He could not be persuaded 
that they bad not been on board at the time of 
the accident. Sabella had been talking to him of 
what her “ Uncle Billy” had just told her only a 
few minutes before it occurred. He was also pos- 
itive that Winn had been on board the ill-fated 
craft. He was certain that Reward died at his 
post of duty, though of Don Blossom’s fate he 
knew nothing. How he himself had escaped he 
could not explain, for he remembered nothing after 
the shock of the collision. 

“ It is evident,” said Billy Brackett, at length, 
“ that we must get to St. Louis as quickly as pos- 
sible, and strive to unravel this mystery there.” 

Cap’n Cod agreed that this seemed the best 
thing to be done, and as there was a train about 
to leave for the South, they hurried to the station. 

As Bim was forced to ride in the baggage-car, 
and his master declined to leave him, both Cap’n 
Cod and Solon rode there as well. All three 
spent the hour’s run to East St. Louis in discuss- 
ing the strange occurrences of the day, and trying 
to discover some ground for belief that either 
Winn or Sabella, or both, might still be alive. In 
this effort they met with so little success that, by 
the time they reached their destination, they had 
wellnigh abandoned all hope of ever again seeing 
either the boy or girl who were so dearly loved. 

16 


2J/.2 Baftmates : A Story of the Great Biver. 

Poor Cap’n Cod was broken-hearted, while Billy 
Brackett resolutely refused to think of the sad 
telegram he must send back to Caspar’s Mill. 

If it had not been that Bim compelled them to 
ride in the baggage-car, they might have discovered 
the two “ river-traders,” Grimshaw and Plater, who 
were also on the train. Bim did discover them 
on the platform at East St. Louis, and he was in 
the act of springing towards Mr. Plater, when the 
old negro Clod stumbled over his chain and into 
Solon’s arms. 

In his joyful excitement at this wonderful meet- 
ing with the brother whom he had never expect- 
ed to see again, Clod allowed a slip of paper to 
fall unheeded to the ground, and Billy Brackett 
picked it up. He glanced carelessly at it, and 
then his shout of amazement as he saw written on 
it the name “ Winn Caspar ” startled not only his 
companions, but every one on the station plat- 
form. 

Two minutes later four excited men, accom- 
panied by a white bull-dog straining at his chain 
and barking as joyfully as though he understood 
the whole situation, were hurrying with all speed 
in the direction of Clod’s cabin on the river-bank. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


IN CLOD’S CABIN. 

Aunt Yiney heard Bim’s joyful voice, and glan- 
cing anxiously towards the door of the room in 
which Sabella lay, she muttered, “ Drat dat ar 
dorg ! He sholy wake up missy wif he barkin’.” 

The barking did waken Sabella, and as she lifted 
her head to listen, she whispered wonderingly to 
herself, “ It’s Bim ! It’s dear old Bim. I know 
his voice.” 

Winn, bending wearily over the statement he 
was preparing for the police, heard the barking, 
and looked up with a startled expression on his 
troubled face. “ If I didn’t know that it couldn’t 
be, I should say that was Bim’s bark. Poor old 
dog !” he thought. 

The next instant he sprang to his feet with a 
cry. Could the dead come to life? Could the 
drowned be resurrected? Could the handsome, 
smiling, eager figure in the doorway be that of the 
young uncle whose untimely death he had so truly 
mourned ? A quick step, a joyful shout, and the 
two were face to face, with hand clasped in hand. 


%JfJf. Raftmates : 

“ It has been a terrible lesson, Uncle Billy, but 
I think I have learned it,” said Winn. 

“ Thank God, my dear boy, that the experience 
has been gained so cheaply; for I feared it had 
cost you your life.” 

“But where is my little one, my Sabella?” 
asked Cap’n Cod, anxiously. “They told me she 
was here.” 

“ Here I am, Uncle Aleck,” came the dear voice 
from the inner room. Then there was another 
glad reunion of those who had thought never again 
to meet in this life ; while the old man counted as 
nothing the loss of all he had possessed, so long as 
this child was left to him. 

When Aunt Yiney was told who Solon was, she 
made him a deep courtesy, and then, with tears 
streaming down her cheeks, she began to sing : 

u Praise God from whom all blessings flow ; 

Praise Him all creatures here below. 

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host ; 

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.” 

Before she finished the first line they were all 
singing with her, and never did this grand old 
hymn of thanksgiving find a more fervent utter- 
ance. 

As for Bim, there nev'er was a happier bull-dog 
in this world. He barked as long as his voice held 


THE NEXT INSTANT HE SPRANG TO HIS FEET WITH A CRY 









A Story of the Great River . 2Jfi 

out, and jumped up on every one, and tore wildly 
about the room until his chain fastened itself to a 
table leg. Then, with a few spoke-like revolu- 
tions, he became completely wound up, and lay 
panting on the floor, only waiting to be released 
that he might again go through with the entire 
performance. 

After comparative quiet had been restored, 
though every one was still talking at once, the 
questions arose, “Who saved Sabella? Was any 
one drowned ? If so, who was it ? Did Winn 
bring the Whatnot down the river ? If not, how 
did he reach the scene of the catastrophe ? How 
did the boy’s signature happen to be attached to 
the paper in possession of the steamboat Captain ? 
These and a dozen other questions were asked in 
a breath, and then all began to answer them at 
once. Finally, Billy Brackett called the meeting 
to order, and asked each one to tell his story in 
turn, beginning with Cap’n Cod. 

The most interesting stories, and those throwing 
the most light on the situation, were Winn’s and 
Sabella’s. At first they were all puzzled to know 
who Mr. Gresham could have been. Then Sabella 
said, “ Why, don’t you know, Uncle Aleck? He 
was the one who sold you the canoe, and the one 
Winn said was a bad man. He brought Don 
Blossom back, and I told him all about Mr. Brack- 


2J/.6 Raftmates : 

ett and Winn and the raft and everything, and 
he was so glad he started right off to find them. 
Then he came back with two other men, and said 
yon were all on the raft, and they borrowed the 
Whatnot to go and find you with. He was one of 
the very nicest and kindest and best men I ever 
knew, and was going to be my ‘Uncle Billy,’ so 
I could have one as well as Winn, and now he’s 
drowned, and — ” 

Here the little girl began to sob bitterly, while 
Billy Brackett and Winn and Cap’n Cod looked 
at each other, and almost simultaneously pro- 
nounced the name “ Gilder.” 

They did not speak it very loud, for the last 
splendid act of the man’s life had won for him the 
right to an unstained name. Hereafter they would 
only remember him as William Gresham the hero. 

Thus was cleared up most of the mystery that, 
like the fog, had enveloped the proceedings of 
that memorable da}'. 

Now what was to be done next ? Where was 
the raft, and was it the Venture or not ? At one 
moment Winn was certain that it was, while the 
next found him again doubtful. 

At length it was decided that Solon should re- 
main with his brother for the present, while the 
others should go to a hotel in the city across the 
river. From there Billy Brackett would telegraph 


A Story of the Great River. 21ft 

to the authorities of towns farther down, asking 
them to watch for an abandoned raft, and if they 
found it to hold it until he could go on and prove 
ownership. The raft being described as belonging 
to a Major Caspar, Winn’s name was signed to all 
these despatches, in order to prevent confusion. 

From the hotel Billy Brackett also thought it 
best to telegraph Major Caspar of their safe arrival 
in St. Louis, though, as they had not yet recovered 
the raft, it would be unnecessary for him to come 
on, and a promise to write full particulars at once. 
In the Major’s absence from home this despatch 
was opened by Mrs. Caspar, who had been grow- 
ing very anxious of late concerning the voyagers 
on the great river. The moment she read it she 
sat down and wrote another despatch to her hus- 
band, who was in Chicago. It was : 

“ Kaftmates in St. Louis. Southern Hotel. 
Please join them immediately.” 

“Just ten words,” she said to herself, with a 
complacent sigh, as she handed this to the waiting 
messenger. “ How if John acts promptly, he may 
catch those crazy boys before they have the chance 
to start off on any other absurd expedition. I only 
hope to goodness that he’ll have the sense to bring 
them home, and let that wretched raft drift where 
it likes.” 


<BJf8 Raftmates : 

Major Caspar could not start for St. Louis the 
next day, but he did so on the following morning, 
and late that same evening he walked into the 
office of the Southern Hotel. He was beginning 
to make inquiries at the desk, when his hand was 
seized and violently shaken. Turning quickly, he 
at once recognized his faithful old army friend 
Cap’n Cod, and gave him a cordial greeting. 

“ But where are the others ?” he inquired at 
length. 

“ Gone down the river an hour ago, by the Short 
Line,” was the unexpected reply. “You see, we 
only got word this evening that an abandoned raft, 
answering our description, had just been picked up 
near Cairo, and Mr. Brackett thought it best that 
he and Winn should go on at once to indentify it. 
It was also decided that Sabella and I should remain 
here until we heard from them, because it might 
not be the Venture , you know, and then I’m not 
sure that we want to go any farther down the 
river, anyway. You see, since losing the Whatnot , 
I’ve rather lost interest — ” 

“ Losing the Whatnot /” interrupted the Major. 
“ What do you mean ?” 

“ Why, haven’t you heard ?” Then they sat 
down, and the old man related all that had hap- 
pened to the Whatnot and her passengers since 
leaving Dubuque. 


A Story of the Great River . 2^9 

When the recital was ended, the Major drew a 
long breath, and exclaimed, “ Well, for mysterious 
happenings, incidents, and rapid changes of scene, 
that beats anything in the line of Mississippi raft- 
ing that ever I heard of. So now they are off again, 
and goodness knows what scrapes they will get 
into next ; while here I am, as helpless to prevent 
them as an old hen with a brood of ducklings. 
There is one thing I can do, though. I must re- 
turn to Caspar’s Mill at once, and I want you and 
your niece to go with me. With my recently in- 
creased business, I need just such a man as you to 
look after my home interests, while my daughter 
Elta, needs just such a girl as your Sabella is 
described to be for a companion.” 

Tears stood in the old soldier's eyes as he real- 
ized all that this offer meant to him and to the 
girl who was so dear to him ; and, in accepting it, 
he blessed the kindly heart by which it had been 
prompted. 

The Major sent a despatch to the address in 
Cairo left by Billy Brackett, directing that young 
man to dispose of the raft as he thought best, to 
take care of Winn, come home as soon as they 
could, and telling of his plans for Cap’n Cod and 
Sabella. He also telegraphed to Mrs. Caspar that 
he should be at home the next day but one, bring- 
ing strangers with him. 


250 Raftmates : 

She, of course, thought he meant the “ raft- 
mates,” as she had called Winn and Billy Brackett 
from the first, and was amazed to see an old man 
and a young girl seated in the carriage with her 
husband as it drove up to the house. At first she 
was greatly disappointed, but within a few days 
she became reconciled to the new arrangement, for 
she could not help loving the gentle old man who 
was so fond of her boy, nor rejoicing in the warm 
friendship that almost immediately sprang up be- 
tween Elta and Sabella. 

In the mean time Billy Brackett and Winn 
reached Cairo early in the morning, and after 
breakfast at a hotel, they called on the City Mar- 
shal, who had sent the despatch relating to the 
raft. To their surprise, he received them coldly, 
and informed them that Mr. Caspar had already 
been there, had expressed his willingness to pay 
a hundred dollars reward for the recovery of his 
raft, and had just gone down to take possession 
of it. 

This was an astounding bit of information, and 
Winn was about to let his rapidly rising indigna- 
tion break forth, when Billy Brackett restrained 
him, and asked, mildly, if the Marshal had any ob- 
jections to their looking at the raft in question 
simply to gratify their curiosity. 

“ Oh no. You can look at her as much as you 


251 


A Story of the Great River. 

like, and you will find her just around the point 
there, in possession of the two young men who 
picked her up — that is, if they haven’t already 
turned her over to her rightful owner.” 

Again Winn would have exploded, but again his 
companion restrained him, at the same time leading 
him from the office. 

They found the raft without much difficulty, and 
walked on board. Just then the broken door of the 
“shanty” opened, and two young fellows, hardly 
older than Winn, stepped out. As they did so one 
of them turned and said, politely, “ Well, good-bye, 
and a pleasant voyage to you, Mr. Caspar.” Then 
they both faced the new-comers. 

Such an expression of blank amazement as 
flashed over their faces Winn thought he had 
never seen. For an instant they stood spellbound. 
Then there was a yell of recognition, or rather a 
chorus of yells from both sides. 

“Billy Brackett, as I’m a sinner ! Whoop ! Hoo- 
ray for the Baldheads and the Second Division !” 

“ Billy Brackett, or his ghost !” 

“ Glen Eddy ! Grip, old man ! How ? When ? 
Where ? Why ? 

u ‘ Oh, gimminy crack, come hold me tight. 

It makes me laugh and shout. 

It tills my heart with gay delight 
When — ; ” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


CAMPMATES TURN RAFTMATES. 

“Wow wow w-o-w-w!” howled Bim, with his 
ridiculous nose uplifted and a most melancholy 
expression of countenance. He felt in duty bound 
to accompany his master’s singing, but on this oc- 
casion, at least, he brought it to a sudden conclu- 
sion, for no one could possibly sing in face of the 
uproarious laughter that greeted his outburst. 

“ That’s always the way,” remarked Billy Brack- 
ett, with a comical expression. “ I never am al- 
lowed to prove what I am really capable of in the 
vocal line. But what are you boys doing here? 
Where did you come from, where are you going, 
and how in the name of all that is obscure and 
remarkable do you happen to be on board our 
raft?” 

“Your raft?” echoed Glen Elting. “What do 
you mean by your raft? We called it our raft 
until a few minutes ago, and now we call it Mr. 
Caspar’s raft.” 

“Yes, I know. Major Caspar’s raft. But it's 
all the same as ours, for I am his brother-in-law, 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 253 

and have his written authority to dispose of it as I 
see fit. Besides, this is his son, and we have been 
hunting this raft for the best part of a month. By- 
the - way, W inn, these are two old, or 'rather two 
young, campmates of mine, Mr. Glen Eddy — I mean 
Matherson ; no, I beg pardon — Elting is the name 
at present, I believe.” 

“Do you know him intimately?” interrupted 
Winn, slyly. 

Billy Brackett made a dive at the boy, but as 
the latter leaped nimbly aside, he continued : “And 
Mr. Binney Gibbs, popularly known as ‘ Grip.’ 
Gentlemen, this impudent young vil-ly-an is my 
nephew, Mr. Winn Caspar.” 

Instead of acknowledging this introduction, Glen 
and Binney looked curiously at each other. Then 
the former said, “ There seems to be something 
wrong here, Billy, for we have just turned this 
raft over to its owner, Mr. Winn Caspar, and he is 
in the house here at this moment.” 

« That’s all right,” replied Billy Brackett. “ I 
rather expected to find that gentleman here, and 
now we will go inside for an interview with him.” 
So saying, he tried to open the door, but found it 
fastened. In spite of its splintered condition, it 
was secured so firmly that it took them several 
minutes to force it open. When this was accom- 
plished, and an entrance was effected, the four 


25 Jf. Raftmates : 

gazed blankly about them and at each other. The 
large room was empty. So were the two smaller 
ones beyond, while an open window in the last 
showed the manner in which Messrs. Plater and 
Grimshaw had effected their escape. 

“It’s too bad,” said Billy Brackett; “for having 
had several interesting interviews with those gen- 
tlemen, I should have been glad of another. I 
think Winn would have been pleased to meet his 
namesake too.” 

“ Indeed I should,” replied the boy. “ I’d like 
to collect rent for the use of my signature, and find 
out where he learned to copy it so perfectly.” 

“ But I don’t understand all this at all,” said 
Glen Elting. “If this raft isn’t theirs, why did 
they want it badly enough to pay three hundred 
dollars reward for its recovery ?” 

“ Whom did they pay it to asked Billy Brack- 
ett. 

“ A hundred to the City Marshal, and a hundred 
each to Binney and me. We didn’t want to take 
it, but they insisted, and saicPthey should feel hurt 
if we refused. So, of course, rather than hurt 
their feelings — But really, Billy, they are most 
gentlemanly fellows, and I think behaved very 
handsomely.” 

“ Will you let me see the hundred dollars they 
gave you ?” asked the young engineer. 


A Story of the Great River. 255 

“Certainly,” replied Glen, with an air of sur- 
prise, and adding, rather stiffly, “ though I didn’t 
think, Billy, that you would require proof of my 
truthfulness.” 

“I don’t, my dear boy, I don’t!” exclaimed 
Billy Brackett. “ I would believe your unsup- 
ported word quicker than the sworn statement of 
most men. I want to look at that money for a 
very different purpose.” 

So a roll of brand-new bills was handed to him, 
and he examined them one by one with the utmost 
care. 

“There are two hundred dollars here,” he said 
at length. “Is this Binney’s share of the reward as 
well as your own?” 

“ No. I had a hundred-dollar bill, and Mr. Cas- 
par seeing it, asked if I would mind taking small 
bills for it, as he wanted one of that amount 
to send off by mail ; so, of course, I let him 
have it.” 

“ Oh, my children ! my children !” murmured 
Billy Brackett, “why will you persist in attempt- 
ing to travel through this wicked world without a 
guardian ? Of all the scrapes from which I have 
been called to rescue you, this might have proved 
the most serious.” 

“ I don’t see how,” said both Glen and Binney. 

Winn knew, and he smiled a little self-compla- 


256 Raftmates : 

cent smile as he reflected, “ This is a little worse 
than any mess I ever got into.” 

“ You would have seen quickly enough if you 
had tried to spend this money,” said Billy Brackett, 
“for you would undoubtedly have been arrested 
on the charge of counterfeiting. Those same fel- 
lows put Winn here in that fix a short time 
since, besides getting away with a thousand dollars’ 
worth of wheat that he had in charge, and now they 
have come very near serving you the same trick.” 

Here Winn’s smile faded away rather suddenly, 
while Glen exclaimed, 

“Do you mean to say that these bills are counter- 
feit?” 

“I do,” replied Billy Brackett; “and if you 
doubt it, take them to the first bank you come 
across and ask the cashier.” 

“But the City Marshal took some just like 
them,” argued Glen, catching at the only straw of 
hope in sight. 

“ So much the worse for the City Marshal, and 
I for one shall let him suffer the consequences. 
He had no business to accept a reward for per- 
forming a simple act of duty, in the first place ; 
and in the second, the readiness with which he 
delivered this raft to the first claimants who came 
along makes it look very much as though he could 
be bribed.” 


257 


A Story of the Great River. 

“Well,” said Glen, in a despairing tone, “if 
wliat you say is true, and I know it must be, we 
are in a fix. That hundred dollars was to pay our 
expenses to New Orleans ; now I don’t know how 
we shall get there.” 

“New Orleans! Are you bound for New Or- 
leans ?” 

“ Yes, and that’s how we happened to be here, 
and to find this raft. You see, my father, General 
Elting, you know, is going to Central America to 
make a survey for the Nicaragua Canal, and Bin- 
ney and I are to go with him. The party is to 
sail from New Orleans some time in January, but 
he had to go to New York first. As there were a 
lot of instruments and heavy things to be sent to 
New Orleans, he thought it best to ship them by 
boat ; and as we wanted to take the river trip, he 
let us come in charge of them. We knew we 
should have to transfer from the Ohio River boat 
at this point, but we didn’t know until we got 
here that we must wait three days for the New 
Orleans packet. As there wasn’t anything else to 
do, we have put in the time hunting and fishing, 
and last evening we ran across this abandoned 
raft about a mile up the Mississippi. We had 
a time getting it in here, I can tell you. When 
we did, and reported it to the City Marshal, he 
showed us a telegram from a Mr. Winn Caspar, 
17 


£58 ltaftmates : 

asking him to look out for just such a raft. ¥e 
knew this must be the one, for we had found 
this book lying on the table, with the name 
‘Winn Caspar’ written all over the fly-leaf, as 
though some one had been practising the signa- 
ture. Sure enough, a man who said his name was 
‘Winn Caspar’ turned up this morning, bringing 
a friend with him. They told a straight enough 
story of how their raft had been stolen near St. 
Louis, and described it perfectly. They even de- 
scribed the interior of this “ shanty ” and every- 
thing in it, including this identical book, as though 
they had lived here all their lives. So, of course, 
both the Marshal and we thought it was all right ; 
and I don’t see even now, if this is your raft, how 
those fellows knew all about it as they did. The 
only thing they slipped up on was the broken door, 
and they owned they couldn’t account for that. It 
seems as if some one must have boarded the 
raft before we did and broken into the “shanty.” 
The men said there wasn’t anything missing, 
though. Perhaps you can tell us what has been 
stolen.” 

“ No,” replied Billy Brackett, “ I can’t tell that, 
but I can tell who broke in that door. I can also 
relate a tale of adventure and misadventure in con- 
nection with this raft that would excite the envy 
of any member of the Second Division, including 


259 


A Story of the Great River . 

even the Baldheads, and yon, who were the most 
reckless yonng scapegrace of the lot.” 

Whereupon the young engineer told these inter- 
ested listeners the whole history of the Venture 
from the time the raft was put together down to 
the present moment. In it he included the What- 
not , , Cap’n Cod, Sabella, Solon, Reward, and Don 
Blossom, Sheriff Riley, the “ river-traders,” Clod, 
Aunt Yiney, and, above all, Bim, who barbed loud- 
ly, and rushed wildly about the room at this honor- 
able mention of his name. 

When the story was finished, Glen Elting heaved 
a deep sigh, and said to Winn, “Well, you have 
had a good time. I thought we had about the best 
times any fellows could have when we crossed the 
plains with Billy Brackett last year, but it seems to 
me that you are having just about as much fun 
right here on this muddy old river as we had out 
there. I only wish we had a raft.” Then turning 
to Billy Brackett, he asked, “ What are you going 
to do next ?” 

“I don’t know,” was the reply. “What are 
you going to do ?” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know.” 

“ Then lend me your ears. You want to get to 
New Orleans, and so do we.” 

“Do we?” interrupted Winn, in surprise, look- 
ing up from the book of travels on the title-page 


260 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

of which his name was written so many times, and 
which was the very one he had been reading the 
last evening he had spent on this raft. 

“ You do 1” exclaimed both Glen and Binney. 

“ Certainly,” was the calm reply. “ It is the 
only market for timber rafts that I know of 
south of St. Louis, and as we can’t go back, we are 
bound to go ahead. So, as I was saying when 
rudely interrupted, both you and we want to go to 
New Orleans. You have no money — real money, 
I mean — with which to get there, and we need at 
least two extra pair of hands to help us get this 
raft there. So why not ship your stuff on board 
here, and help us navigate this craft to our com- 
mon destination ?” 

“ Do you truly mean it, Billy Brackett ?” 

“ I truly mean it. And if you are willing to 
go as raftmates with us — ” 

“ Are we willing ? Well, I should smile ! Are 
we willing ? Why, Billy Brackett, w T e’d rather go 
to New Orleans as raftmates with you and Winn 
Caspar than to do anything else in the whole 
world just at present. ‘ Eh, Grip V ” 

“ Well, rather !” answered Binney Gibbs. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


THE “RIVER -TRADERS” ATTEMPT TO REGAIN POSSESSION. 

So it was settled that the three who had been 
campmates together on the plains should now, 
with Winn Caspar to complete the quartet, be- 
come raftmates on a voyage of nearly a thousand 
miles down the great river. It is hard to say 
which of the four was happiest during the busy 
day that followed the making of this arrangement. 
Winn was overjoyed at recovering the raft lost 
through his over-confidence in his own wisdom, 
and at the prospect of taking a trip so much longer 
than he had anticipated at the outset. He had also 
conceived a great fancy for the two manly young 
fellows whose fortunes had become so strangely 
connected with those of the Venture , and was glad 
they were to be his companions on the voyage. 

Billy Brackett was not only rejoiced that he had 
at length been successful in finding both Winn 
and the raft, but was delighted to meet again those 
with whom he had already shared so much of peril 
and pleasure. That they had again become his 
mates in such a peculiar manner, and amid such 


262 Raftmates : 

different scenes, was proof, as lie quaintly ex- 
pressed it, that “ Truth can give the most ex* 
pert fiction points, and still beat it at its own 
game.” 

Glen and Binney were raised from a depth of 
dismay, caused by the loss of their money and 
the resulting predicament into which they were 
thrown, to a height of felicity at the prospect of a 
raft voyage down the Mississippi, under the lead- 
ership of their beloved campmate, Billy Brackett. 
They also liked Winn ; and, judging from what 
had already happened to him, regarded him as a 
boy in whose company a variety of adventures 
might reasonably be hoped for. 

Owing to their past experience with the “river- 
traders,” Billy Brackett and Winn were somewhat 
uneasy at the presence of Grimshaw and Plater in 
town, and their manifest desire to regain posses- 
sion of the raft. They were puzzled by this, and 
wondered what reason the men could still have 
for wanting the raft. Certainly their connection 
with it was now too well known for them to hope to 
make any further use of it in pursuing their un- 
lawful business. Nor did it seem likely that they 
would choose it merely as a conveyance down the 
river. No ; it must be that they had hoped to 
sell the Venture , and realize a considerable sum 
by the transaction. This was the conclusion 


A Story of the Great River . 263 

finally reached by our raftmates, though it was not 
one with which they were entirely satisfied. 

Still, they felt that, as they were now four to two, 
they might reasonably hope to be left in undis- 
turbed possession of the raft for the future, and so 
did not allow thought of the “ river-traders ” to 
trouble them to any great extent. They decided 
that two of them should stay constantly on board 
the raft, at least so long as they remained in that 
locality, and that Bim should also be added to the 
protective force. 

To begin with, Binney and Winn remained on 
guard while Billy Brackett and Glen went into 
the town to telegraph for Solon, send down the 
instruments, and make other arrangements for the 
voyage. It had been decided that as their crew 
was incomplete without a cook, Solon should be 
sent for, and that they could not make a start 
until he arrived, which would probably be early 
the next morning. 

Winn and Binney found plenty to occupy them 
during the absence of the others in becoming ac- 
quainted, learning each other’s history, and arrang- 
ing the interior of the “ shanty.” From Binney, 
Winn learned what a splendid fellow his young 
uncle was, and how much he was respected as well 
as admired by all who were so fortunate as to be 
counted among his friends. “He is a fellow,” 


264 Raftmates : 

concluded Binney, “ who couldn’t do a mean thing 
if he tried. One thing I like especially about him 
is that he is just as careful in his attention to trifles, 
if they come in the line of his duty, as he is to big 
things, and Billy has already had some pretty im- 
portant positions too, I can tell you. He is full 
of fun, and was the life and soul of the Second 
Division all the time they were crossing the plains. 
Glen knows him better than I do, though, because 
they were 4 bunkies 5 together, and from what he 
has told me I regard myself as mighty lucky to 
have the chance of taking a trip in his company.” 

“He has told me a good deal about you and 
Glen on that trip,” said Winn, “ but I don’t re- 
member hearing anything about his own advent- 
ures.” 

“ That’s just what makes fellows like him. He 
is always ready to listen to what they have to say, 
or to tell of anything they have done, if it is worth 
telling ; but he never puts himself forward as one 
who knows it all or has done it all and can’t be 
taught anything.” 

This conversation set Winn to thinking, with 
the result that in one instance, at least, he had 
been too hasty in his conclusions. He had been 
somewhat ashamed that his uncle should act the 
part of showman with a river panorama, and had 
supposed that it was done from a desire to display 


265 


A Story of the Great River. 

bis own accomplishments. Now he wondered if, 
after all, this was not the one delicate and unob- 
trusive way in which Cap’n Cod’s poor little 
undertaking could have been saved from a ridicu- 
lous and mortifying failure. He had been in- 
clined to regard his young relative as rather frivo- 
lous ; but perhaps there were depths to Billy 
Brackett’s character that he was not yet wise 
enough to fathom. He would study it more care- 
fully hereafter, and how doubly thankful he now 
was that his chance to do so had not been lost 
with the wreck of the Whatnot. 

Although the interior of the Venture's “ shanty ” 
still seemed unfamiliar to Winn, he could no 
longer doubt that the raft was his father’s. In 
the small room that he was to have occupied he 
now found most of his own possessions just where 
he had left them. Among the things that he 
was particularly glad thus to find were several 
changes of clothing, of which he stood greatly in 
need. 

The “ shanty” was in great disorder; but the 
two boys worked so faithfully at sweeping, clean- 
ing, and putting things to rights, that by the time 
the others returned with a dray-load of freight 
the interior was thoroughly clean and inviting. 
The afternoon was spent in laying in a store of 
provisions for the voyage, repairing the splintered 


266 


Raftmates: 

door, and mending one of the sweeps, which was 
on the point of breaking. 

By sunset everything was in readiness for a 
start, and all hands were gathered about the galley 
stove, each superintending the cooking of his spe- 
cialty for supper. Billy Brackett could make grid- 
dle-cakes, or “flip-flaps,” as he called them. He 
fried them in an iron spider, and the deftness with 
which he turned them, by tossing them in the air, 
so excited the admiration of his raftmates that 
they immediately wished to engage him as regular 
cook for the trip. 

“This isn’t a circumstance to what I can do in 
the culinary line,” remarked Billy Brackett, mod- 
estly. “ To know me at my best, you ought to be 
around when I make biscuit. My heavy biscuit 
are simply monuments of the baker’s art. They are 
warranted to withstand any climate, and defy the 
ravaging tooth of time. They can turn the edge 
of sarcasm, and have that quality of mercy which 
endureth forever. A quartz-crusher turns pale at 
sight of them, and they supply a permanent filling 
for aching voids or long-felt wants. In fact, gen- 
tlemen, it is universally acknowledged that my 
biscuit can’t be beat.” 

“Neither can a bad egg,” said Glen, who was 
trying to make an omelet. 

“ Let us defer the biscuit for this time, and have 


A Story of the Great River. 267 

a smoking dish of corn-meal mush instead,” sug- 
gested Winn. “ It is one of the hardest things in 
the world to cook, but I know the trick to perfec- 
tion.” 

“Mush, mush, mush, tooral-i-addy,” sang Bin- 
ney. At that moment Bim began to growl, and 
to sniff at the bottom of the door. They opened 
it and looked out. No one was there, nor did they 
hear a sound. Darkness had already set in, and 
they could see nothing. Bim ran to the edge of 
the raft, barked once or twice, and then returned 
to his place near the stove. 

“ It must have been your singing that excited 
him, Grip,” remarked Billy Brackett. “ He gen- 
erally acts that way when a person sings, and I 
have heretofore attributed it to envy, though I 
don’t see how it could have been in this case.” 

After supper Billy Brackett went into town to 
call on the telegraph operator, with whom he had 
established friendly relations, and to receive some 
despatches that he was expecting. He had not 
been gone long before Bim, who had been left be- 
hind, again began to show signs of uneasiness, and 
intimate a desire to be let out. 

Again the door was opened for him, and again 
he rushed out into the darkness. This time re- 
treating footsteps and the rustling of bushes on 
the bank were distinctly heard. With a low 


268 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . 

growl Bim sprang ashore and disappeared. The 
next instant the boys saw a flash of lantern-light a 
few rods below the raft, heard a smothered yelp, 
the sounds of a confused struggle, and a moment 
later a loud splash in the water. Then all was 
again buried in darkness and silence. 

“ Something has happened to Bim !” exclaimed 
Winn, in a low but excited tone, “and I am going 
to find out what it is.” With this the boy leaped 
ashore, and hurried in the direction from which 
the sounds had come. 

“It’s a mighty foolish thing to do, but you 
sha’n’t go alone,” said Glen Elting, quietly, as he 
started after Winn, adding, as he left the raft, 
“You stay behind and stand guard, Binney.” 

The boy, thus suddenly left alone, stood guard 
for about fifteen seconds, when all at once two 
dark figures sprang aboard the raft from the bank, 
and he had barely time to utter a single cry of 
warning before he was engaged in a furious strug- 
gle with one of them, who had seized him from 
behind. 

“ Drop him overboard !” 

Although the command was given in a low tone, 
Binney heard and understood it. Then the strong 
arms in which he was struggling lifted him as 
they would a child, and bore him towards the edge 
of the raft. 



< < 


yy 


THE STRONG ARMS LIFTED HIM AS THEY WOULD A CHILD 





✓ 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


WHERE IS BIM? 

Billy Brackett was in a particularly content- 
ed frame of mind, and whistled softly to himself 
as he tramped through the muddy streets of one 
of the muddiest cities in the United States, tow- 
ards the telegraph office. He was well satisfied 
with the results of his expedition thus far, and 
with its prospects of a successful termination. He 
did not notice the curious looks with which sev- 
eral persons regarded him as the bright light from 
a store window fell on his face, nor would he have 
cared if he had. His conscience was clear, and he 
had nothing to fear from observation, curious or 
otherwise. 

As he entered the telegraph office, the operator 
glanced up with a nod of recognition. A few 
seconds later, having finished sending the despatch 
with which he had been busy, he turned his key 
over to an assistant and said, 

“ Will you step this way a moment, sir? I 
wish to speak to you in private.” With this 
he led the way into a room behind the office, 


270 Raftmates : 

where, after the other had entered, he closed the 
door. 

“ What’s up ?” asked the young engineer, won- 
dering at these proceedings. 

“Have you or any of your companions any 
counterfeit money in your possession ?” asked the 
operator, abruptly. 

“Ho — that is, yes. One of my friends has 
quite a lot of it that was passed on him for gen- 
uine this morning, and I have a few samples for 
purposes of comparison.” 

“But you haven’t passed, or tried to pass, any of 
it in this place ?” 

“ Certainly not ! Why do you ask such a ques- 
tion ?” 

“ Because I have taken a liking to you. Have 
not you in your possession a note of identification 
from a certain Iowa Sheriff ?” 

“Yes; I have such a note from a Sheriff named 
Biley, of Dubuque ; but how did you know any- 
thing about it ?” asked Billy Brackett, greatly sur- 
prised. 

“ In a very simple way. Sheriff Biley happens to 
be my brother, and he wrote to me all about your 
little affair up the river. So I know you to be 
an honest man, and want to give you a warning. 
You may be very sure, however, that I should 
not do so were I not confident of your innocence.” 


&71 


A Story of the Great River. 

“ Innocence of what ?” 

“ Passing counterfeit money. A good bit of it 
has suddenly appeared in circulation here, and 
your raft has been identified by some men from 
up-river as one on which suspicion has already fall- 
en in connection with a similar state of affairs 
elsewhere. You have made a good many purchases 
to-day, and at least one bad bill has been traced 
directly to you. Of course you may have received 
it in change, and passed it again unknowingly. I 
believe that is how it happened. If I did not, 
I should hold my tongue and let you suffer the 
consequences. In addition to this, all sorts of 
queer stories regarding you have been circulated 
about town to-day, and such a feeling has been 
aroused against you that a number of the worst 
characters in the place have determined to pay 
your raft a visit to-night. I don’t know what 
they intend doing, nor do I think they know 
themselves, but I am certain if they find you the 
result will be most unpleasant. They are to be 
led by a couple of strangers, who have been se- 
cretly watching you all day. These men claim to 
be 4 river-traders,’ who have suffered serious losses 
through you, including that of the raft now in 
your possession, which, they say, was stolen from 
them. I can’t tell you how I gained all this in- 
formation, but it is at your disposal. If I were in 


272 Raftmates : 

your place, I would take advantage of the dark- 
ness to drop down the river, and I wouldn’t lose 
any time about it either.” 

“You advise me to run away like a coward, in- 
stead of remaining to defend myself against these 
abominable and absolutely unfounded charges !” 
exclaimed Billy Brackett, indignantly. “ I shall do 
nothing of the kind.” 

“Not ‘run away;’ simply continue your voyage 
before it is unpleasantly interrupted,” returned the 
other, with a smile. “ If you remain until morn- 
ing, your raft, with its contents, will certainly be 
destroyed by an unreasoning mob, at whose hands 
you and your companions may suffer bodily injury. 
In this case action would come first and inquiry 
afterwards. I am convinced you could easily 
prove your innocence, but doubt if you could ob- 
tain any redress for the losses you would have suf- 
fered in the mean time. Now I must get back to 
my desk. You will of course act as you think 
best, but I sincerely hope that you will accept my 
advice, and decide that an honorable retreat is bet- 
ter than a lost battle.” 

“ But there is Solon, the man whom I tele- 
graphed to join us here. I don’t expect him be- 
fore morning.” 

“ Why, he is here already ! Haven’t you met 
him ? He arrived on the evening train, and came 


273 


A Story of the Great River. 

in here to inquire where you could be found. I 
gave him directions, and started him off not fifteen 
minutes ago.” 

“ I don’t see how he managed it,” said Billy 
Brackett, who had been thinking rapidly while the 
other spoke ; “ but if he is already on board there 
is no reason why our departure should be delayed. 
Therefore I am almost inclined to accept your ad- 
vice, for which, as well as for your timely warning, 
I am sincerely grateful. I will, at any rate, get 
back to the raft at once.” 

With this the young man shook hands with the 
operator, and left the office. 

“ There !” exclaimed the other, looking after 
him with a relieved sigh ; “ I believe I have done 
that young fellow a good turn. At the same time 
I have given myself a chance to capture the thou- 
sand -dollar reward that Ned wrote about, and 
which I was afraid this chap was after for him- 
self.” 

As for Billy Brackett, the more he reflected upon 
the situation, as he hastened towards the place 
where the raft was moored, the more puzzled he 
became as to what course he ought to pursue. He 
now had not only Winn, the raft, and himself to 
consider, but Glen and Binney, and the valuable 
instruments belonging to General Elting. Cer- 
tainly it would not do to allow these to fall into 
18 


27 Jf Raftmates : 

the hands of an excited and irresponsible mob. 
Still, the thought of running away was hateful. 

As he neared the raft an undefined apprehension 
caused him to quicken his steps ; and at the sound 
of Binney Gibbs’s shout of warning, he broke into 
a run. Then he heard another shout of “ Hoi’ on, 
Marse Winn! I cornin’!” and the noise of a 
struggle. In another moment he was in the thick 
of it. 

Solon had reached the raft just in time to save 
Binney, who he thought was Winn, from being 
dropped overboard by Plater, the “ river-trader.” 
The old negro attacked the big man so furiously 
with tooth and nail that the latter gave the lad in 
his arms a fling to one side, sending him crashing 
with stunning force against the “shanty,” and de- 
voted his entire attention to this new assailant. 
He had just stretched Solon on the deck with a 
vicious blow of his powerful fist, when Billy Brack- 
ett appeared and sprang eagerly into the fray. 
Even Plater’s brute strength was no match for the 
young engineer’s science, and the latter would have 
gained a speedy victory, had not Grimshaw, who 
had been engaged in casting off the lines that held 
the raft to the bank, come to his partner’s assist- 
ance. 

How, with such odds against him, Billy Brackett 
was slowly but surely forced backward towards 


A Story of the Great River. 275 

the edge of the raft. In another moment he 
would have been in the river, when all at once 
two dripping figures emerged from it, scrambled 
aboard, and with a yell like a war-whoop, ranged 
themselves on the weaker side. A few well- 
planted blows, a determined rush, and the strug- 
gle for the possession of the raft was ended. The 
fighting ardor of Messrs. Plater and Grimshaw was 
being rapidly cooled in the icy waters through 
which they found themselves swimming towards 
the shore. At the same time the Venture was 
gaining speed with each moment, as, borne on by 
the resistless current, it drifted out over the min- 
gling floods of the Ohio and Mississippi. Billy 
Brackett, still panting from his exertions, was 
bending over Binney Gibbs, who was struggling 
back to consciousness. Solon was sitting up, ten- 
derly feeling of his swollen features, and declar- 
ing, “ Dat ar man liab a fis’ lak de bin laig ob a 
mewel.” 

Glen and Winn had manned one of the sweeps, 
and were trying to get the raft properly headed 
with the current. Thus the voyage was really 
begun, and the young engineer, who hated to run 
away, was spared the necessity of making a deci- 
sion. It was a start, too, with all hands on board. 
To be sure, two of them were battered and bruised, 
while two more were soaked to the skin ; but all 


276 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

were there, and none was greatly the worse for 
the recent exciting experience. 

Suddenly Billy Brackett spoke up and asked : 
“ But where is Bim ? Is it possible that we have 
left him behind ?” 

For a moment no one answered. Then Winn 
said : “ That’s what Glen and I were ashore for. 
We are afraid he is lost.” 

“ Lost ! Bim wouldn’t get lost ! He has too 
much sense.” 

“I expect he is this time, though,” said Glen, 
“ and we don’t believe he will ever be found again, 
either.” Then he told of Bim’s rushing ashore, 
the smothered yelp, the loud splash that followed, 
and of their unsuccessful search for him in the 
darkness. “So it looks as though the poor dog 
were done for,” concluded Glen, “ and I expect it 
was by a trick of those same fellows who tried to 
capture the raft.” 

Billy Brackett listened closely, without a word, 
and when he had heard all there was to tell, 
he turned abruptly away and walked into the 
“shanty,” muttering through his clinched teeth, 
“ The scoundrels.” 

It certainly would have gone hard with the 
“ river-traders ” could the stalwart young engineer 
have laid hands on them at that moment. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


A BLAZE ON THE RIVER 

As Messrs. Plater and Grimshaw will not appear 
again in this story, it may be as well to dismiss 
them at once. The well-conceived and desperate 
effort to gain possession of the raft just de- 
scribed was their last attempt in that direction. 
They had watched Billy Brackett leave it, had en- 
ticed the ever-faithful Bim from it, and when, 
from a place of concealment, they heard two of 
its remaining defenders go ashore in search of the 
brave dog, their satisfaction was complete. Now 
they were sure of the prize for which they were 
willing to risk so much. Stealing silently to the 
raft without attracting Binny Gibbs’s attention, 
they leaped aboard, proceeded to dispose of him, 
and at the same time to set the Venture adrift. 
Had not Binney’s shout guided Solon to the scene, 
success would have crowned their efforts. 

The old negro was not a fighter by nature, but 
in defence of those he loved he could be bold as a 
lion. Consequently he rushed to the rescue of the 
boy whom he supposed was Winn Caspar with- 


278 Baftmates : 

out hesitation, and careless of the odds against 
him. His coming, followed so quickly by that of 
Billy Brackett and the arrival of the two boys, 
turned the tide of battle. Glen and Winn were 
compelled to plunge overboard and swim for the 
raft, as it was already a rod or so from shore 
when they regained the place where it had been 
tied. 

The “ river-traders” were unwillingly compelled 
to take the same plunge a moment later, and as 
they swam towards the shore, which, fortunately 
for them, was still near at hand, their hearts were 
filled with bitterness at their defeat, while plans for 
future vengeance were already forming in their 
minds. But these were never carried out, for the 
reason that, as they were making their dripping way 
into town, they came across the mob bent on a deed 
of destruction that they themselves had instigated. 
With it was Joe Riley, the operator, and as these 
were the very men he was most desirous of meet- 
ing just then, he persuaded his associates to devote 
a few minutes of attention to them. 

As a result of this interview with one who knew 
so much about them and their business, their 
career as “ river-traders ended then and there. A 
few days later they left Cairo in company with 
Sheriff Riley, of Dubuque, who had come down 
the river on purpose to escort them north. Why 


279 


A Story of the Great River. 

they had been so anxious to recover possession of 
the Venture was for a long time an unsolved puz- 
zle to the crew of that interesting raft. That the 
reason was finally explained will be made as clear 
to us as it was to our raftmates before the end of 
this story of their unique voyage down the great 
river. When it is, we shall probably wonder, as 
they did, that so simple a solution of the mystery 
had not occurred to us before. 

In the mean time the raft, once more in full pos- 
session of its rightful crew, is gliding swiftly with 
the mighty current through the starlit darkness. 
Billy Brackett, with a heart full of sorrow over 
the loss of his four-footed but dearly loved com- 
panion, is on watch. The lantern, lighted and run 
to the top of the flag-staff, sends forth a clear beam 
of warning to all steamboats. In the “ shanty,” 
which looks very bright and cosey in comparison 
with the outside darkness, Binney Gibbs is lying 
comfortably in one of the bunks, Solon is making 
himself acquainted with the arrangements of his 
new galley, and the other two are changing their 
wet clothing, while carrying on an animated con- 
versation regarding the stirring events just re- 
corded. 

“ How jolly this would all be if it wasn’t for 
poor Billy’s melancholy over the loss of his dog,” 
remarked Glen Elting, as he turned the steaming 


280 


Raftmates : 

garments hanging m front of the galley stove. 
“It was a splendid start, wasn’t it Grip?” 

“Yes, I suppose so,” answered Binney, a little 
doubtfully ;” though I don’t believe it would seem 
quite so fine to you if you ached all over as I 
do.” 

“ Perhaps not, old man. But you’ll be all right 
again to-morrow, after a good night in ‘dream- 
bags and anyway, you must admit that this beats 
steamboating all to nothing. Just think, if we 
hadn’t been lucky enough to fall in with this 
blessed raft, and Billy and Winn, and all the rest, 
we should at this very moment be just ordinary 
ten- o’clock-at -night passengers, shivering on the 
Cairo wharf-boat, and waiting for the New Orleans 
packet to come along. She’s due there some time 
this evening, you know.” 

“Yes; and instead of that, here I am — ” 

“Here you are,” interrupted Glen, seeing that 
his friend was about to utter a complaint ; “ and 
thankful you ought to be to find yourself here, too. 
Why, we’ll be as merry as this muddy old river is 
long, as soon as Billy ceases to mourn for his dog. 
I’m a little surprised that he should take it so much 
to heart, though. It isn’t like Billy B. to be cast 
down over trifles.” 

“ Trifles !” cried Winn. “ When you call dear 
old Bim a ‘ trifle,’ you are making one of the big 


281 


A Story of the Great River . 

mistakes of your life, and you wouldn’t do it 
either if you had known him as well as I did. 
There never was another dog like him for wisdom 
and gentleness and pluck and — well, and every- 
thing that makes a dog lovely. Why, that Bim 
would reason his way out of scrapes that would 
stump a man, and the word ‘fear’ was never 
printed in his dictionary. Somehow I can’t help 
thinking that he’ll turn up all right, bright and 
smiling, yet.” 

“ I don’t see how,” said Glen. 

“ Neither can I, and I don’t suppose I could 
if I were in his place; but unless Bim is un- 
commonly dead, I’ll guarantee that he’ll come 
to life again somehow and somewhere. In fact, 
I shouldn’t be one bit surprised to see him 
aboard this very raft again before our voyage is 
ended.” 

“ I must confess that I should,” said Glen. 

“ That’s because you don’t know him,” respond- 
ed Winn. “ Isn’t it, Solon ?” 

“ I ’spec’s hit must be, Marse Winn,” answered 
the old negro. 

“ And wasn’t he the very wisest dog you ever 
knew ?” 

“Yes, sah, he suttinly was, all ’ceptin’ one, an’ 
hit war a yallar ’coon dawg wha’ I uster own 
down in ole Lou’siana. I ’spec’s he war jes a 


282 Raftmates : 

teenty mite more knowin’ dan eben Marse Brack’s 
^im dawg. He name war Bijah.” 

“How did he ever prove his wisdom?” asked 
Winn, incredulously. 

“ How him provin’ it!” exclaimed the old negro, 
warming to his subject. “Why, sah, him provin’ 
it ebbery day ob he life more ways ’n one.” 

“ Well, give us an example, if you can remember 
one.” 

“ Yes, sah, I kin. An’ I tell you-all one ob de 
berry simples’ t’ings what dat ar Bijah ebber done. 
He war jest a ornery, stumpy -tail, ’coon dawg, 
Bijah war, an’ him know he warn’t nuffin else. 
Dat’s why he won’t go fer nuffin ’ceptin’ ’coons — 
no rabbits, ner ’possum, ner fox, ner b’ar, ner nuffin 
— jes ’coons. But ’coons ! Don’ talk, gen’l’mm / 
I reckin dat ar Bijah done know ebbery ’coon in 
twenty mile ob de Moss Back plantashun. An’ he 
knowed some fer ’coons wha’ didn’ ’low dey war 
’coons no way.” 

“ What do you mean by that ?” asked Winn. 

“Dat’s wha’ I coinin’ to, Marse Winn, but yo’ 
mus’n’ hurry de ole man. One day I takin’ de ole 
kyart inter town wif a load er wood, an’ Bijah he 
gwine erlong. When we cornin’ to der place whar 
de wood kyarts stops, I onyoked, an’ Bijah he 
lyin’, sleepylike, onder de kyart. I passin’ de 
time er day ’long some udder cullud fellers, an’ 


A Story of the Great River . 288 

tellin’ wha’ kind ob a ’coon dawg Bijah war, an’ 
how he ain’t know nuffin no way ’ceptin’ ’coons. 
Suddint I see dat ar dawg kin’ er wink he eye, an’ 
raise up an’ sniff de yair, an’ den lite out licketty 
cut down erlong. Dey ain’t nuffin on de road 
’ceptin’ jes a cullud gal, an’ she a-turnin’ inter de 
sto’. 

“Dem fellers laff fit to bus’ deirselfs, an’ say, 
4 Hi dar ! wha’ dat fine ’coon dawg gwine fer 
now V 

44 I say, 4 Him gwine fer a ’coon, gen’l’men, he 
suttinly am.’ Yo’ see, I jes naclierly ’bleeged ter 
say so. Same time, I kin’ er jubious. 

44 Afo’ we cornin’ ter de sto’, I heah ole Bijah 
gibbin tongue lak mad, an’ I say, 4 Him treed um’ 
gen’l’men ! him treed um fer sho’. But when we 
cornin’ dar, an’ look in der do’, I feelin’ mighty 
sick. Dat ar cullud gal she up in er cheer er-shyin’ 
she umbrel at Bijah, an’ him jes a dancin’ ’roun’, 
an’ er-yelpin’. 

“Well, ef dem fellers ain’t laff! Dey jes roll 
deirselfs in de dus’. 

“ 4 Whar yo’ ’coon dawg now ? Whar yo’ ’coon 
dawg V dey axin ; but I kep’ on sayin’ nuffin. I 
know dat gal, an’ when I hit Bijah er clip to stop 
he noise, I say, berry polite, 4 Mawnin’, Lize. Yo’ 
got any ’coon ’bout yo’ pusson V 

44 Den she say, snappylike, 4 How I gwine get 


28 Jf. Baftmates : 

’coon, yo’ fool nigger! No, sah, I ain’t got no 
’coon ’ceptin’ my ole man wha’ I marry yistiddy ? 
lie name Coon? ” 

The shout of laughter that greeted this story 
was interrupted by the appearance of Billy Brack- 
ett at the door. 

“ Come out here, boys !” he cried. “ There’s a 
steamboat on fire and coming down the river !” 

This startling announcement emptied the “ shan- 
ty” in a hurry. Even Binney Gibbs forgot his 
aches and joined his mates outside. 

There was no doubt as to the meaning of the 
column of flame that turned the darkness into day 
behind them. It was so near that they could hear 
its ominous roar, while the black forest walls on 
either side of the river were bathed in a crimson 
glow from its baleful light. A vast cloud of 
smoke, through which shot millions of sparks, 
trailed and eddied above it, while, with the hoarse 
voice of escaping steam, the blazing craft sounded 
its own death-note. 

As the monster came tearing down the channel 
of crimson and gold that opened and ever widened 
before it, our raftmates were fascinated by the 
sight of its sublime but awful approach. They 
stood motionless and speechless until roused to a 
sudden activity by Billy Brackett’s shout of “ Man 
the sweeps, fellows ! She is unmanageable, and 





LIKE YOUNG TIGERS THE BOYS TUGGED AT THE HEAVY SWEEPS, 











A Story of the Great River. 285 

headed for us as straight as an arrow. If we can’t 
get out of the way she’ll be on top of us inside of 
two minutes more!” 

Like young tigers the boys tugged at the heavy 
sweeps ; but they might as well have tried to ex- 
tinguish the floating volcano that threatened them 
with destruction as to remove that mass of timber 
beyond reach of danger within the time allowed 
them. The task was an impossible one ; and as 
they realized this fact, the crew of the Venture 
prepared to launch their skiff, abandon the raft, 
and row for their lives. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


BIM’S HEROISM. 

As the burning steamboat swept down towards 
the low -lying raft the destruction of the latter 
appeared so certain that its crew abandoned all hope 
of saving it ; and, taking to their skiff, sought by 
its means to escape the threatened danger. It was 
a forlorn hope, and promised but little. Even with 
Billy Brackett’s strong arms tugging at its oars, 
the heavily laden skiff seemed to move so slowly, 
that but for the ever- widening space between 
them and the raft they would have deemed it at a 
stand-still. They gazed in silence and with fasci- 
nated eyes at the on-coming terror. At length, 
with a sigh of thankfulness, they saw that they 
were beyond its track, and Billy Brackett’s labors 
were somewhat relaxed. 

Suddenly, as though endowed with a fiendish 
intelligence, the blazing fabric took a sheer to port, 
and headed for the skiff. A hoarse cry broke from 
the old negro, whose face was ashen gray with 
fright. It was echoed by Binney Gibbs. The 
others kept silence, but their faces were bloodless. 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 287 

By a mighty effort Billy Brackett spun the skiff 
around, and with the energy of despair pulled 
back towards the raft. The stout oars bent like 
whips. If one of them had given way nothing 
could have saved our raftmates from destruction. 
Had the tough blades been of other than home 
make, and fashioned from the best product of the 
Caspar Mill, they must have yielded. With each 
stroke Billy Brackett rose slightly from his seat. 
Arms, body, and legs made splendid response to 
the demands of the invincible will. Years of care- 
ful training and right living were concentrated 
into that supreme moment. Another might have 
sought personal safety by plunging overboard and 
diving deep into the river. Glen and Winn might 
have followed such an example. Binney and So- 
lon, being unable to swim, could not. But Billy 
Brackett was too true an American to consider 
such a thins: for an instant. Generations of Yan- 
kee ancestors had taught him never to desert a 
friend nor yield to a foe ; never to court a danger 
nor to fear one ; to fight in a righteous cause with 
his latest breath ; to snatch victory from defeat. 

As the skiff dashed alongside the Venture the 
vast, glowing, seething mass of flame, smoke, and 
crashing timbers swept by so close that the raft- 
mates were obliged to seek a shelter in the cool 
waters from its deadly heat. Clinging to the edge 


288 Raftmates : 

of the raft, with their bodies entirely submerged, 
they gazed breathlessly and with blinded eyes at 
the grandest and most awful sight to be seen on the 
Mississippi. It was a huge lower-river packet, and 
was completely enveloped in roaring flames that 
poured from every opening, and streamed furiously 
from the tall chimneys the trailing banners of the 
fire-fiend. The boat was under a full head of steam, 
her machinery was still intact, and the great wheels, 
churning the glowing waters into a crimson foam, 
forced her ahead with the speed of a locomotive. 
The back draught thus caused kept the forward 
end of her lower deck free from flame. Here, as 
she rushed past, the boys caught a glimpse of the 
only sign of life they could discover aboard the ill- 
fated packet. It was a dog leaping from side to 
side, and barking furiously. 

They had hardly noted his presence when a cu- 
rious thing happened. There came an explosion 
of steam, a crash, and the starboard wheel dropped 
from its shaft. Thus crippled, the blazing craft 
made a grand sweep of half a circle in front of the 
raft. Then, as the other wheel also became dis- 
abled and ceased its mad churnings, the boat lay 
with her head up-stream, drifting helplessly with 
the current. The packet was not more than a 
couple of hundred feet from the raft when its 
wild progress was thus checked, and now the bark- 


A Story of the Great River. 289 

ings of the dog, that had already attracted the boy’s 
attention, were heard more plainly than before. 

All at once Billy Brackett, who had regained the 
wave-washed deck of the raft, called out, “ It’s Bim ! 
I know his voice !” 

With this he again sprang into the skiff, with 
the evident intention of attempting to rescue his 
four-footed comrade. Winn Caspar was just in 
time to scramble in over the stern as the skiff shot 
away. “ I may be of some help,” he said. 

As they neared the burning boat, they saw that 
the dog was indeed Bim. He answered their calls 
with frantic barks of joy, but refused to leap into 
the skiff or into the water, as they urged him to. 

He would run back out of their sight instead, 
and then reappear, barking frantically all the while. 
Once he seemed to be dragging something, and try- 
ing to hold it up for their inspection. 

“ The dear old dog has some good reason for act- 
ing in that way,” said Billy Brackett, “ and I must 
go to him.” 

Winn had not the heart to remonstrate against 
an attempt to aid Bim, even though its extreme 
danger was obvious. The blazing hull, from which 
most of the upper works were now burned away, 
was liable to plunge to the bottom at any moment, 
and the boy shuddered at the thought of being en- 
gulfed in the seething whirlpool which would 
19 


&80 JRaftmates : 

thus be created. He involuntarily cringed, too, at 
the thought of the red-hot boilers ready to burst 
and deluge all surrounding objects with scalding 
steam and hissing water. Still, he would not have 
spoken a single word to deter Billy Brackett from 
his daring project even had he known it would be 
heeded. 

While these thoughts flashed through Winn’s 
mind, his companion was clambering up over the 
low guards, and Bim’s joyful welcome of his mas- 
ter was pitiful in its extravagance. The dog seemed 
to say, “ I knew you would come if I only waited 
patiently and barked loud enough. How you see 
why I couldn’t leave.” 

The object to which Bim thus directed attention, 
as plainly as though possessed of speech, was a 
little curly-haired puppy, a Gordon setter, so young 
that its eyes were not yet opened. 

Billy Brackett picked it up and dropped it over 
the side into Winn’s arms. Then he tried to do 
the same by Bim; but, with a loud bark, the nimble 
dog eluded his grasp, and dashed away into the 
thick of the smoke. Tongues of flame were lick- 
ing their cruel way through it, and as Bim emerged, 
his hair was scorched in yellow patches. He 
dragged out a dead puppy, laid it at his master’s 
feet, and before he could be restrained had once 
more dashed back into the stifling smoke. Again 


‘ 291 


A Story of the Great River. 

he appeared, this time weak and staggering, every 
trace of his white coat gone. He was singed and 
blackened beyond recognition ; but he was a four- 
footed hero, who had nobly performed a self-im- 
posed duty. As he feebly dragged another little 
dead puppy to his master’s feet, Billy Brackett 
seized the brave dog in his arms, and sprang over 
the side of the doomed steamboat into the waiting 
skiff. Tears stood in the young man’s eyes as the 
suffering creature licked his face, and he exclaimed, 
“I tell you what, "Winn Capar, if this blessed dog 
isn’t possessed of a soul, then I’m not, that’s all !” 

Meanwhile Winn was pulling the skiff swiftly 
beyond reach of danger. It was none too soon ; 
for before they reached the raft, the glowing mass 
behind them reared itself on end as though mak- 
ing a frantic effort to escape its fate. Then, with 
a hissing plunge, it disappeared beneath the turbid 
flood of the great river. A second later there 
came a muffled explosion, and a column of water, 
capped by a cloud of steam, shot upward. At 
the same time the scene was shrouded in a dark- 
ness made absolute by the sudden extinguishing of 
the fierce light, while the silence that immediately 
succeeded the recent uproar seemed unbroken. 

Then the momentary hush was invaded by the 
sound of many voices, some of which were ut- 
tering groans and cries of pain. A score of un- 


292 Raftmates : 

fortunates from the burned packet, who had been 
driven by the flames to the extreme after-end of 
the boat, where they were hidden from the view of 
those on the raft, had leaped into the water as they 
were swept past, and managed to reach it while 
Billy Brackett and Winn were away. 

Now, by means of the skifl, others whose cries 
for help located them in the darkness were picked 
up. Many persons had escaped soon after the 
breaking out of the fire by means of the small 
boats and life-raft carried by the packet; while 
still others, comprising nearly half the ship’s com- 
pany, were lost. It was one the most terrible of 
the many similar disasters recorded in the history 
of steamboating on the Mississippi; and to this 
day the burning of the Lytle is a favorite theme of 
conversation among old river men. 

When Glen Elting learned the name of the ill- 
fated craft, he started and turned pale. “The 
very packet for which we were waiting !” he cried, 
with bated breath. “ Oh, Binney, how many things 
we have to be thankful for !” 

“Indeed we have,” answered the boy; “and not 
the least of them is that we are in a position to 
help these poor people, who have been overtaken 
by the misfortune that was reaching out for us.” 

These two were tearing sheets into bandage 
strips, and dressing wounds with the salve and 


298 


A Story of the Great River. 

ointments found in Major Caspar’s medicine chest. 
Solon was providing a plentiful supply of hot- 
water over a roaring fire in the galley stove, and 
bustling about among the forlorn assembly, that, 
drenched and shivering, had been so suddenly in- 
trusted to his kindly care. Billy Brackett and 
Winn rowed in every direction about the raft so 
long as there was the slightest hope of picking up 
a struggling swimmer. 

Their last rescue was that of a man clinging to a 
state-room door, and so benumbed with the chill of 
the water that in a few moments more his hold 
must have relaxed. Beside him swam a dog, also 
nearly exhausted. 

When the man was carried into the “ shanty,” 
the dog followed him, and was there seen to be of 
the same markings and breed as the puppy saved 
by Bim. Noting this, Winn hunted it up and 
brought it to her. It was hers, and no human 
mother could have shown more extravagant joy 
than did this dog mother at so unexpectedly find- 
ing one of her lost babies. She actually cried with 
happiness, and fondled her little one until it pro- 
tested with all the strength of its feeble voice. 
Then she lay down with the puppy cuddled close 
to her, and one paw thrown protectingly across it, 
the picture of perfect content. 

Bim had been almost as excited as she, and in 


29 Jf Raftmates: A Story of the Great River. 

spite of his burns, had circled about the two, and 
barked until the puppy persuaded its mother to be 
quiet. Then Bini and she lay down, nose to nose, 
and while the former told his friend how he had 
found her deserted babies on the boat aud had de- 
termined to save them, and how his own dear mas- 
ter had come in answer to his barks for assistance, 
she told him how she had been in the after-part 
of the boat getting her supper when the flames 
broke out, and had gone nearly crazy at finding 
herself separated from her little ones. She assured 
him she would have gone through fire and water 
to reach them had not her master thrown her 
overboard, and immediately afterwards jumped 
into the river himself. Then she believed that all 
was lost, for in her distress of mind she had en- 
tirely forgotten her brave friend Bim. If she had 
only remembered him, she would have been quite 
at ease, knowing, of course, that he would find 
some way of saving at least one of her puppies, 
which, under the circumstances, was all that could 
be expected. 

At which Bim jumped up and barked for pure 
happiness, until his master said, “ That will do, 
Bim, for the present.” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE MASTER OF MOSS BANK. 

The Gordon setter’s name was Nanita, while 
that of her master was Mr. Guy Manton, of New 
York. Within a short time after the* final plunge 
of the burned packet, several steamboats, attracted 
by the blaze, reached the raft, and offered to carry 
the suvivors of the disaster to the nearest town. 
This offer was accepted by all except Mr. Manton, 
who asked, as a favor, that he and his dogs might 
be allowed to remain on board the Venture, at least 
until morning. Of course the raftmates willingly 
consented to this, for Mr. Manton was so grateful 
to them, besides proving such an agreeable com- 
panion, that they could not help but like him. 

From him they learned how Bim happened to 
be on board the ill-fated steamboat, a situation over 
which they had all puzzled, but concerning which 
they had heretofore found no opportunity of in- 
quiring. According to Mr. Manton’s story, he 
was on his way to a plantation on the Mississippi, 
in Louisiana, which he had recently purchased, but 
had not yet seen. 


296 Raftmates : 

Wishing to learn something of the great river 
on a bank of which his property lay, he had come 
by way of St. Louis, and there boarded the fine 
New Orleans packet Lytle. He had brought with 
him a supply of machinery, provisions, and tools 
for the plantation, all of which were now either 
consumed by fire or lay at the bottom of the river. 
He had also brought his favorite setter Nanita 
and her litter of three young puppies, which he 
had proposed to establish at his new winter home. 

During the stop of the packet at Cairo he had 
taken Nanita ashore for a run. On their way back 
to the boat he discovered that she was not follow- 
ing him, and anxiously retracing his steps a short 
distance, found her in company with a white bull- 
dog, to whom she was evidently communicating 
some matter of great interest. 

Mr. Manton saw that the strange dog was a val- 
uable one, and when it showed an inclination to 
follow them, tried to persuade it to return to its 
home, which he supposed was somewhere in the 
town. As the dog disappeared, he thought he had 
succeeded, and was afterwards surprised to find it 
on the boat, in company with Nanita and her little 
ones. Believing, of course, that the bull -dog’s 
owner was also on board, he gave the matter but 
little thought, and soon after called Nanita aft to 
be fed. 


A Story of the Great River. 297 

While he was attending to her wants, the cry of 
“fire” was raised. The flames burst out some- 
where near the centre of the boat, in the vicinity 
of the engine-room, and had already gained such 
headway as to interpose an effectual barrier be- 
tween him and the forward deck. lie supposed 
that the boat would at once be headed for the 
nearest bank, but found to his dismay that almost 
with the first outbreak of flame the steering-gear 
had been rendered useless. At the same time 
the engineers had been driven from their post 
of duty, and thus the splendid packet, freighted 
with death and destruction, continued to rush 
headlong down the river, without guidance or 
check. 

Amid the terrible scenes that ensued, Mr. Man- 
ton, followed by his faithful dog, was barely able 
to reach his own stateroom, secure his money and 
some important papers, wrench the door from its 
hinges, throw it and Nanita overboard, and then 
leap for his own life into the dark waters. 

At this point the grateful man again tried to ex- 
press his sense of obligation to his rescuers, but was 
interrupted by Billy Brackett, who could not bear to 
be thanked for performing so obvious and simple 
an act of duty. To change the subject the young 
engineer told of Bim’s act of real heroism in saving 
one and attempting to save the other members of 


298 Raftmates : 

the little family, which he evidently considered 
had been left in his charge. 

To this story Mr. Man ton listened with the deep- 
est interest ; and when it was concluded, he said, 
“ He is a dear dog, and most certainly a hero, if 
there ever was one. I shall always love him for 
this night’s work.” 

Then Bim, who was now covered with healing 
ointment and swathed in bandages, was petted and 
praised until even Nanita grew jealous, and insisted 
on receiving a share of her master’s attention. 

All the while the brave bull-dog looked into the 
faces of those gathered about him with such a 
pleading air of intelligence and such meaning 
barks that his longing to tell of what had hap- 
pened to him after he started from the raft in pur- 
suit of the odious “ river-trader ” who had once 
kicked him was evident to them all. If he only 
could have spoken, he would have told of the 
cruel blow by which he was momentarily stunned, 
of finding himself in a bag in the river, of how 
he had succeeded by a desperate struggle in es- 
caping from it and finally reaching the shore, of 
his distress at not finding the raft, and the sad 
search for his master through the town, of his 
meeting with Nanita, and of his decision to accept 
her advice and take passage with her down the 
river, in which direction he was certain his floating 


m 


A Story of the Great River. 

home had gone. All this Bim would have com- 
municated to his friends if he could ; but as they 
were too dull of comprehension to understand him, 
they have remained in ignorance to this day of that 
thrilling chapter of his adventures. 

Besides telling the raftmates of his cruel experi- 
ence, Mr. Manton related some of the incidents 
of a canoe voyage even then being made down the 
river by his only son Worth and the boy’s most 
intimate friend, Sumner Rankin. These two had 
made a canoe cruise together through the Ever- 
glades of Florida the winter before, and had en- 
joyed it so much, that when Mr. Manton proposed 
that they should accompany him to Louisiana, they 
had begged to be allowed to make the trip in 
their canoes. 

“They started from Memphis,” continued Mr. 
Manton, “ and have had some fine duck and turkey 
shooting among the Coahoma sloughs and cane- 
brakes. With them is a colored man named 
Quorum, who crossed the Everglades with them, 
and who now accompanies them, in a skiff that 
they purchased in Memphis, as cook and general 
adviser. I have heard from them several times by 
letter, and so know of their progress. It has been 
so good that unless I make haste they will reach 
Moss Bank before me. That is the name of our 
new home,” he added, by way of explanation. 


800 Raftmates : 

“ Wha’ dat yo’ say, sah ?” exclaimed Solon, who 
had been an interested listener. a Yo’ callin’ dat 
ar plantashun Moss Back ?” 

“Yes, ‘Moss Bank’ is the name it has always 
borne, I believe,” replied Mr. Manton. “ But 
why do you ask ? Do you know the place ?” 

“ Does I know um ! Does I know de place I 
war borned an’ brung up in ? Why, sah, dat ar’ 
my onlies home befo’ de wah. Ole Marse Rankim 
own um, an’ me an’ he boy, de young marse, hab 
de same mammy. So him my froster-brudder. He 
gwine away fer a sailor ossifer, an’ den de wah 
cornin’ on, an’ ebberyt’ing gwine ter smash. He 
name ‘ Summer/ Yo’ know dat young gen’l’man ?” 

“ Yes,” replied Mr. Manton, “ I knew him inti- 
mately. He has been dead for several years ; but 
I am well acquainted with his family, and it is his 
son who is now travelling down the river in com- 
pany with my boy. In fact, it was through him 
that I came to purchase this old plantation, with a 
view to making it our winter home.” 

“Praise de Lawd, I gwine ter see a Rankim 
once mo’ !” exclaimed the old negro. “ Yo’ is 
gwine stop at de ole Moss Back place, Marse 
Winn ? Yo’ sholy is?” 

“ Why, yes ; if Mr. Manton would like to have 
us, I think we should be very happy to stop there 
when we reach it,” said Winn. 


SOI 


A Story of the Great River. 

“Stop! Of course you will,” exclaimed Na- 
nita’s master. “ I have already planned for that, 
and should feel terribly disappointed if you did 
not. I want to see more of you, and I want you 
to meet and know my boys. Besides, I was going 
to ask you to allow Nanita and her pup to com- 
plete their journey down the river on this raft in 
company with Bim, who will, I know, take good 
care of them. If you should consent to this plan, 
of course you will be obliged to stop at Moss Bank 
to land them. 

“We shall be delighted to have them,” said 
Billy Brackett; “and, on behalf of Bim, I hereby 
extend a formal invitation to them to become his 
raftmates for the remainder of the cruise. At the 
same time, I am certain that my companions, as 
well as myself, will be most happy to visit you in 
your new home, and there make the acquaintance 
of your boys.” 

By the time this arrangement was concluded it 
was daylight, and Mr. Manton insisted on the raft- 
mates turning in for a nap, while he and Solon 
kept watch. He remained on board the Venture 
all that day, and by sunset the current had borne 
the raft forward so rapidly that they were able to 
tie up near Columbus, Kentucky. At this point the 
owner of Moss Bank bade his new-made friends au 
revoir , and started by rail for his Louisiana home. 


802 Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 

After his departure, and during the month of 
drifting that followed, the raftmates talked so 
much of Moss Bank, and listened to so many 
stories concerning it from Solon, that to their 
minds it grew to be the objective point of their 
trip, and seemed as though it must be the one 
place towards which their whole voyage was tend- 
ing. Much as they anticipated the reaching of 
this far-southern plantation, however, they would 
have been greatly surprised and decidedly incredu- 
lous had any one told them that it was indeed to 
mark the limit of their voyage, and that there the 
good raft Venture, from Wisconsin for New Or- 
leans, was destined to vanish, and become but a 
fading memory. But so it was, as they found out, 
and as we shall see. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

BIM’S ’COON. 


Through the last week of November and the 
first three of December our raftmates drifted 
steadily southward down the great river. Al- 
though it was the most unpleasant season of the 
year, and they encountered both cold rains and 
bitter winds that chilled them to the marrow, the 
boys thoroughly enjoyed their experience. They 
could always retreat to the “ shanty,” which Solon 
kept well filled with warmth and comfort, and 
they had the satisfaction of an uninterrupted prog- 
ress. The management of the raft called for a 
vast amount of hard and monotonous work ; but it 
gave them splendid muscles and tremendous appe- 
tites. They were obliged to maintain a constant 
lookout for bars, reefs, snags, and up-bound river 
craft, and by means of the long sweeps at either 
end of the raft head it this way or that to avoid 
these obstacles and keep the channel. They were 
always on the move from sunrise to sunset, and 
generally travelled on moonlit nights as well. If 
the night promised to be dark or stormy they tied 
up at the nearest bank. 


30 Jf Raftmates : 

At such times the outside blackness, the howling 
wind, driving rain-squalls, and dashing waves only 
heightened the interior cosiness, the light, warmth, 
and general comfort of their floating home. In it 
they played games, sang songs to the accompani- 
ment of Solon’s banjo, told stories, taught the dogs 
tricks ; or, under Billy Brackett’s direction, pegged 
away at engineering problems, such as are con- 
stantly arising in the course of railway construc- 
tion. Even Winn tried his hand at these; for 
under the stimulus of his companions’ enthusiasm 
he was beginning to regard the career of an engi- 
neer as one of the most desirable and manly in 
which a young fellow could embark. 

This voyage into the world, with such guides 
and associates as Billy Brackett, Glen Elting, and 
Binney Gibbs, was proving of inestimable value to 
this boy. Not only were his ideas of life broadened 
and his stock of general information increased by 
it, but he was rapidly learning to appreciate the 
beauty of modest pretensions, and a self-reliance 
based upon knowledge and strength, as compared 
with the boastfulness and self-conceit of ignorance. 

Sometimes the Venture was tied up for the night 
near other rafts, and its crew exchanged visits 
with theirs. The regular river raftsmen were gen- 
erally powerful young giants, rough and unlettered, 
but a good-natured, happy-go-lucky lot, full of tales 


S05 


A Story of the Great River, 

of adventure in the woods or on the river, to which 
the boys listened with a never-failing delight. Nor 
were the raftmates at all behindhand in this inter- 
change of good stories ; for they could tell of life 
on the Plains or in California, of Indians, buffalo, 
mountains, deserts, and gold-mines, to which their 
auditors listened with wide-open eyes and gaping 
mouths. During the pauses Solon was always 
ready with some account of the wonderful per- 
formances of his long-ago ’coon dog Bijah. 

So wise did our raftmates become concerning 
’coons and their habits, from Solon’s teachings, that 
finally nothing would satisfy them but a ’coon hunt 
of their own. Billy Brackett was certain that Bim, 
who by this time had fully recovered from the ef- 
fects of his burns, would prove as good at finding 
’coons as he had at everything else in which he 
had' been given a chance. Solon was doubtful, be- 
cause of Bim’s color and the length of his tail. 

“ I hain’t nebber see no fust-class ’coon dawg 
wha’ warn’t yallar an’ stumpy tail lak my Bijah 
war,” he would remark, gazing reflectively at Bim, 
and shaking his head. “Of cose dish yer Bim 
dawg uncommon knowin’, an’ maybe him tree a 
’coon ’mos’ ez good ez Bijah ; but hit’s a gif’, an’ a 
mighty skurce gif’ ’mong dawgs.” 

“Oh, come off, Solon !” Billy Brackett would an- 
swer. “You just wait till you see Bim tree a 
20 


306 Raftmates : 

’coon. He’ll do it so quick, after we once get into 
a ’coon neighborhood, that your Bijah would be 
left a thousand miles behind, and you won’t ever 
want to mention his name again.” 

So one night when the Venture was well down 
towards the lower end of the State of Arkansas a 
grand ’coon hunt was arranged. They drew lots to 
decide who should be left behind in charge of the 
raft, and, much to his disgust, the unwelcome task 
fell to Glen. So he remained on board with JNanita 
and Cherub, as the pup had been named in honor 
of Bim, though it was generally called “ Cheer-up,” 
and the others sallied forth into the woods. 

They were well provided with fat pine torches 
and armed with axes. Bim was full of eager ex- 
citement, and dashed away into the darkness the 
moment they set foot on shore. His incessant bark- 
ing showed him to be first on this side and then on 
that, while once in a while they caught a glimpse 
of his white form glancing across the outer rim of 
their circle of torchlight. 

“ Isn’t he hunting splendidly ?” cried Billy 
Brackett, with enthusiasm. 

“Yes, sah,” replied Solon ; “but him huntin’ too 
loud. We ain’t gettin’ to de place yet, an’ ef he 
don’ quit he barkin’, him skeer off all de ’coon in 
de State. 

So Bim was called in, and restrained with a bit 


807 


A Story of the Great River. 

of rope until a corn-field was reached that Solon 
pronounced the right kind of a place from which 
to make a start. Then the eager dog was again 
set free, and in less than a minute was heard giv- 
ing utterance to the peculiar yelping note that 
announced his game as “ treed.” 

“What did I tell you?” shouted Billy Brackett, 
triumphantly, as he started on a run for the point 
from which the sounds proceeded. How’s that 
for — ” but at that instant the speaker tripped over 
a root, and measured his length on the ground with 
a crash that knocked both breath and powers of 
speech from his body. The others were so close 
behind that they fell on top of him like a row of 
bricks, and in the resulting confusion their torch 
was extinguished. 

Hastily picking themselves up, and without paus- 
ing to relight the pine splinters, they rushed pell- 
mell towards the sound of barking, bumping into 
trees, stumbling over logs, scratching their faces 
and tearing their clothes on thorny vines. But 
no one minded. Bim had treed a ’coon in the 
shortest time on record, and now if they could only 
get it, the triumph would be ample reward for all 
their trials. 

Finally, bruised, battered, and ragged, they 
reached the tree which Bim, with wild leapings, 
was endeavoring to climb. Their first move was 


308 Baftmates : 

to illumine the scene with a huge bonfire. By its 
light they proceeded to a closer examination of the 
situation. The tree was a huge moss-hung water- 
oak, evidently too large to be chopped down, as all 
the ’coon trees of Solon’s stories had been. So 
Winn offered to climb it and shake out the ’coon. 
As yet they had not discovered the animal, but 
Bim was so confident of its presence that they 
took his word for it. 

Solon had raised a false alarm as the first 
gleam of firelight penetrated the dark mass of 
foliage above them by exclaiming : 

“ Dar he ! Me see um ! Lookee, Marse Brack, 
in dat ar crutch !” 

But what the old negro saw proved to be a 
bunch of mistletoe, and when Winn began his 
climb the ’coon’s place of concealment was still 
unknown. Up went the boy higher and higher, 
carefully examining each limb as he passed it, 
until he was among the very topmost branches of 
the tree. The others stood on opposite sides of 
the trunk, with axes or clubs uplifted, and gazed 
anxiously upward until their necks ached. 

At length Winn became aware that from the 
outermost end of a slender branch just above his 
head a pair of green eyes were glaring at him. 
The glare was accompanied by an angry spitting 
sound. “ I’ve found him, fellows ! Look out below !” 


309 


A Story of the Great River. 

he shouted, and began a vigorous shaking of the 
branch. All at once the animal uttered a sound 
that caused a sudden cessation of his efforts. It 
also caused Winn to produce a match from his 
pocket, light it, and hold the tiny flame high 
above his head. Then, without a word, he began 
to descend the tree. 

As he dropped to the ground the others ex- 
claimed in amazement, “ What’s the matter, Winn ? 
Where’s the ’coon ? Why didn’t you shake him 
down ?” 

“ He’s up there,” replied Winn, “ but I don’t 
want him. If any of you do, you’d better go up 
and shake him down. I’d advise you to take a 
torch along, though.” 

Not another word of explanation would he give 
them, and finally Binney Gibbs, greatly provoked 
at the other’s stubbornness, declared he would go 
up and shake that ’coon down — in a hurry, too. 
He so far accepted Winn’s advice as to provide 
himself with a blazing knot, and then up he start- 
ed. In a few minutes he too returned to the 
ground, saying that he guessed Winn was about 
right, and they ’didn’t want that ’coon after all. 

“ What in the name of all foolishness do you 
mean ?” cried Billy Brackett, impatiently. “ Speak 
out, man, and tell us, can’t you ?” 

But Binney acted precisely as Winn had done, 


310 Raftmates : 

and advised any one who wanted that ’coon to go 
and get it. 

“Well, I will!” exclaimed the young engineer, 
almost angrily ; “ and I only hope I can manage 
to drop him on top of one of your heads.” 

With this he started up the tree, and disappeared 
among its thick branches. He quickly made his 
way to the top. Then the rustling of leaves 
ceased, there was a moment of silence, followed by 
a muttered exclamation, and Billy Brackett came 
hastily down to where the others were expectantly 
awaiting him. 

“ Let’s go home, boys,” he said, as he picked up 
his axe and started in the direction of the river. 
“ Come, Bim ; your reputation as a ’coon dog is 
so well established that there is no need to test it 
any further.” 

Poor Solon, who was too old and stiff to climb 
the tree, was completely mystified by these strange 
proceedings ; but his expostulation of, 

“Wha — wha’s de meanin’ ob dish yer — !” was 
cut short by the departure of his companions, and 
he was obliged to hasten after them. 

A few minutes after the ’coon hunters had 
gone a big boy, and a little girl with a tear-stained 
face, who had come from a house just beyond the 
corn-field, reached the spot, to which they had 
been attracted by the firelight. As they did so, 


311 


A Story of the Great River . 

the child uttered a cry of joy, sprang to the water- 
oak, and caught up a frightened - looking little 
black and white kitten that was cautiously de- 
scending the big trunk backward. 

To this day the outcome of that ’coon hunt re- 
mains a sealed mystery to poor Solon, while Bim 
has never been invited to go on another. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


THE GREAT RIVER AND ITS MISCHIEF. 

The scenery amid which the good raft Venture 
performed its long and eventful voyage changed 
almost with the rapidity of a kaleidoscope, but 
was ever fascinating and full of pleasant surprises. 
The flaming autumnal foliage of the forest-lined 
banks through which the first hundred miles or so 
were made, gave way to masses of sombre browns or 
rich purples, and these in turn to the flecked white 
of cotton-fields, the dark green of live-oaks, and 
the silver gray of Spanish moss. The picturesque 
cliffs of the upper river, rising in places to almost 
mountainous heights, were merged into the low- 
lands of canebrakes and swamps, broken by ranges 
of bluffs along the eastern bank after the Ohio 
was passed. On these bluffs were perched many 
cities and towns that were full of interest to our 
raftmates; among them, Memphis, Vicksburg, 
Natchez, and Baton Kouge. Every here and there 
in the low bottom lands of the “ Delta ” below 
Memphis they saw the rounded tops of great 
mounds, raised by prehistoric dwellers in that 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River. 818 

region as places of refuge during seasons of flood. 
They passed from the great northern wheat region 
into that of corn, then into the broad cotton belt, 
and finally to the land of sugar-cane and rice, 
orange-trees, glossy -leaved magnolias, and gaunt 
moss-hung cypresses. 

Of more immediate interest even than these 
ever-changing features of the land was the varied 
and teeming life of the mighty river itself. The 
boys were never tired of watching the streams 
of strange craft constantly passing up or down. 
Here a splendid packet in all the glory of fresh 
paint, gleaming brass, gay bunting, and crowds of 
passengers rushed swiftly southward with the 
current in mid-channel ; or, up-bound, ploughed a 
mighty furrow against it, while the hoarse cough- 
ings of its high-pressure engines echoed along 
many a mile of forest wall. 

Smaller up-bound boats hugged the banks in 
search of slack water. Most of the main-stream 
packets were side- wheelers ; but those of lighter 
draught, bound far up the Red, the Arkansas, the 
Yazoo, the Sunflower, or other tributary rivers, 
were provided with great stern wheels that made 
them look like exaggerated wheelbarrows. Then 
there were the tow-boats, pushing dozens of sooty 
coal-barges from the Ohio ; freight-boats so piled 
with cotton-bales that only their pilot-houses and 


SlJf Raftmates : 

chimneys were visible; trading- scows and “ Jo- 
boats floating dance-houses and theatres ; ferry- 
boats driven by steam, or propelled by mule-power, 
like the Whatnot ; some large enough to carry a 
whole train of cars from shore to shore, and others 
with a capacity of but a single team. There were 
skiffs, canoes, pirogues, and rafts of all sizes and 
description. 

Most interesting of all, however, were the Gov- 
ernment snag-boats, which constantly patrolled the 
river, on the lookout for obstructions that they 
might remove. These boats were doubled-hulled ; 
and when one of them straddled a snag, no matter 
if it was the largest tree that ever grew, it was 
bound to disappear. With great steam-driven 
saws it would be cut into sections, that were lifted 
and swung aside by powerful derricks planted 
near the bows. These useful snag-boats also gave 
relief to distressed craft of all kinds ; blew up or 
removed dangerous wrecks ; dislodged rafts of drift 
that threatened to form inconvenient bars ; and in 
a thousand ways acted the part of an ever-vigilant 
police for this grandest of American highways. 

And the great restless river needed watching. 
It was as full of mischievous pranks as a youthful 
giant experimenting with his new-found strength. 
It thought nothing of biting out a few hundred 
acres of land from one bank and depositing them 


315 


A Story of the Great River. 

miles below on the other. If these acres were 
occupied by houses or cultivated fields, so much 
the more fun for the river. For years it would 
flow peacefully in a well-known channel around 
some great bend, then decide to make a change, 
and in a single night cut a new channel straight 
across the loop of land. By such a prank not only 
were all the river pilots thoroughly bewildered, 
but a large slice of one State, with its inhabitants 
and buildings, would be transferred to another. 
If at the same time an important river -town 
could be stranded and left far inland, the happi- 
ness of the mischief-making giant was complete ; 
and for many miles it would swirl and eddy and 
boil and ripple with exuberant glee over the suc- 
cess of its efforts. 

Above all it delighted in secretly gathering to 
itself from tributary streams their vast accumula- 
tions of protracted rains or melting snows, until it 
was swollen to twice its ordinary size, and endowed 
with a strength that nothing could withstand. 
Then with mighty leaps it would overflow its 
banks, cover whole counties with its tawny floods, 
burst through levees, and riot over thousands of 
cultivated fields, sweep away houses, uproot trees, 
and drown every unfortunate creature on which it 
could lay its clutching fingers. Whenever its flee- 
ing victims managed to reach some little mound 


S16 


Raftmates : 

or bit of high land that it could not climb, then it 
found equal pleasure in surrounding them and 
mocking them with its plashing chuckles, while 
they suffered the pangs of slow starvation. 

At these times of overflow not only the snag- 
boats but such other craft as could be pressed into 
the service were despatched in every direction to 
the relief of the river giant’s victims. While on 
this duty they carried provisions, clothing, and 
other necessaries of life into the most remote dis- 
tricts; effected rescues from floating houses, or 
those whose roofs alone rose above the flood and 
afforded uncertain refuge for their inmates; re- 
moved human beings and live-stock from little 
muddy islands miles away from the main channel 
of the river, carried them miles farther before 
reaching places of safety, and in every way strove 
with all their might to mitigate the calamity of 
unfettered waters. 

Our raftmates had witnessed the effect of all 
these freaks and caprices, except that of a wide- 
spread and devastating flood, during their voyage, 
and as they drew near its end they became aware 
that an acquaintance with this most terrible of all 
the river’s efforts at destruction was to be added 
to their experience. The drought of summer had 
been followed by an almost unprecedented rainfall 
during the autumn. The earth in every direction 


817 


A Story of the Great River. 

was like an oversoaked sponge, and the surplus 
water was pouring in turbid torrents into the 
rivers. From every quarter of the vast Mississippi 
Valley these watery legions were hurried forward 
to join the all-conquering forces of the great river. 

It had been high-water in the Ohio when the 
Venture lay at Cairo. When it passed the mouth 
of the Arkansas its crew were amazed at the 
mighty volume of its muddy flood. From this 
on they floated in company with ever-increasing 
masses of drift — trees, fences, farming imple- 
ments, straw-stacks, cotton-bales, out-buildings, and 
every now and then a house, lifted bodily from its 
foundations, and borne away in the resistless arms 
of the ever-swelling tide. Most of the houses were 
empty, but from several of them the ready skiff 
of the Venture effected rescues, now of a solitary 
individual driven to the verge of despair by the 
lonely terrors of his situation, and then of whole 
wretched families who had lost everything in the 
world except their lives. A cow, several pigs, 
and dozens of barn-yard fowls also found an asylum 
on the friendly raft, until, as Billy Brackett said, 
it reminded one of the original and only Noah’s 
ark menagerie. 

Besides supplying the raft with passengers, the 
river helped to feed them. Floating straw-stacks 
and shocks of corn were always in sight, while 


818 Raftmates : 

fresh milk and eggs, pork and chickens, drifted 
with the current on all sides. In vain were these 
passengers landed at the nearest accessible points. 
A new lot was always found to take the place of 
those who had left, and for ten days the raft re- 
sembled a combination of floating hotel, nursery, 
hospital, and farmyard. The resources of our 
raftmates were taxed to their utmost during this 
time to provide for the manifold wants of their 
welcome but uninvited guests, while Solon de- 
clared, “ I hain’t nebber done sich a sight er cook- 
en durin’ all de days ob my life.” 

By the time the mouth of the Red River was 
reached, half of Concordia Parish was flooded, and 
but for the forest trees rising from the water, the 
boys would have thought themselves afloat on a 
vast inland sea. The low bluffs on which the cap- 
ital of Louisiana is seated, and beyond which the 
cane lands extend in almost a dead level to the 
Gulf, were occupied by the tents and rude shelters 
of hundreds of refugees from the drowned dis- 
tricts. Here our raftmates began to entertain fears 
for the safety of their friends at the Moss Bank 
plantation, which lay but a day’s journey farther 
down the river. 

At Baton Rouge they cleared the raft of its liv- 
ing encumbrances, and then pushed ahead. From 
this point to the Gulf the great river is enclosed 


319 


A Story of the Great River. 

between massive levees, or embankments of earth, 
behind which the level of the far-reaching cane- 
fields is much lower than the surface of high- 
w r ater. Thus the raft was borne swiftly along at 
such an elevation that its crew could look over the 
top of the eastern levee and down over a vast area 
of plantation lands. These were dotted with dark 
clumps of live-oaks or magnolias, and at wide in- 
tervals with little settlements of whitewashed ne- 
gro quarters, grouped behind the broad-verandaed 
dwellings of the planters. Near each was the mill 
in which the cane from the broad fields was crushed 
and its sweet juices converted into sugar. These 
mills were surmounted by tall iron smoke-stacks, 
and near each stood the square, tower-like bagasse 
(refuse) burner, built of stone, and looking like the 
keep of some ancient castle. 

All along the levee they saw gangs of men at 
work strengthening the embankments and raising 
them still higher. They were often hailed and 
asked to lend assistance, but they felt that their 
own friends might be in need of them, and so 
passed on without answer. So changed was the 
aspect of the country since Solon had last seen it, 
and so excited did the old man become as he neared 
the scenes of former years, that it was evident he 
could not be depended upon to recognize Moss 
Bank when they should reach it. 


820 Raftmates : 

The day was nearly spent before they arrived at 
what they felt sure must be its immediate vicinity. 
They had decided to tie up at the first good place, 
and there wait for morning, when Winn called 
out : 

“ What is that just ahead ? I thought it was a 
log ; but it seems to be moving towards us, and I 
believe it is some sort of a small boat with a man 
in it.” 

The object to which their attention was thus 
directed proved to be a decked canoe, the very 
daintest craft any of them had ever seen, bearing 
the name Psyche in gold letters on either bow. In 
it sat a boy of about Winn’s age, urging it for- 
ward with vigorous strokes of a double -bladed 
paddle. 

The raft was close to the levee as he shot along- 
side. 

“ Hello !” he shouted ; “ is this the raft Vent- 
ure ?” 

“ Yes. Are you Worth Manton ?” 

“No; but I am Sumner Kankin. Worth is 
down there with his father and all the hands we 
could raise, working on the levee ; but we are afraid 
it can’t stand much longer. I have been out here 
hailing every raft that passed, and watching for 
you for the last three days. I’m awfully glad 
you’ve come, for our men are discouraged, and 










A Story of the Great River . 821 

about ready to give up. Now, perhaps you will 
help us.” 

“ Of course we will ! Come right aboard and 
show us where to tie up,” answered Billy Brackett, 
heartily. 

By the time the raft was made fast near the 
scene of greatest danger, and Mr. Manton, with 
Worth, had come aboard, the night was as dark as 
pitch. The lanterns of the working gang glancing 
here and there like so many fire-flies were feebly 
reflected in the angry waters that slid stealthily by 
with uncanny gurglings and muttered growls. 

“If the bank will only hold until morning!” 
said Mr. Manton, about midnight, as he and Billy 
Brackett entered the Ventures cosey “shanty” for 
a brief rest. All but these two and Solon were 
asleep, laying in a stock of strength for the labors 
of the next day. 

Suddenly there came a frightened shouting from 
the bank. Then all other sounds were drowned 
in the furious roar of rushing waters, while the 
raft seemed to be lifted bodily and hurled into 
space. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 


HURLED THROUGH THE CREVASSE AND WRECKED. 

During the earlier hours of that eventful night 
Billy Brackett had brought all his engineering skill 
to bear upon the problem of how to save the Moss 
Bank levee. His cheery presence, and the evident 
knowledge that he displayed, inspired all hands 
with confidence and a new energy. Under his di- 
rection the raftmates worked like beavers, and Mr. 
Manton was more hopeful that the levee could be 
made to withstand the terrible pressure of swollen 
waters than he had been from the beginning. But 
it was very old and had been neglected for years. 
By daylight the young engineer might have noted 
its weak spots, and strengthened them. He would 
have seen the thin streams that silently, but 
steadily and in ever-increasing volume, were work- 
ing their vray through the embankment near its 
base. In the inky blackness of the night they 
were unheeded ; and while spade and pick were 
plied with unflagging zeal to strengthen the higher 
portions, these insidious foes were equally busy un- 
dermining its foundations. 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . 323 

Shortly before midnight everything seemed so 
secure that the boys were sent to the Venture's 
“ shanty ” to get a few hours of sleep. Then Billy 
Brackett and Mr. Manton came in for the hot cof- 
fee Solon was preparing for them. They had 
hardly seated themselves at the table when the 
catastrophe occurred. Without warning, a quarter 
of a mile of the water -soaked levee sank out of 
sight, and dissolved like so much wet sugar. Into 
the huge gap thus opened the exulting waters 
leaped with the rush and roar of a cataract. On 
the foaming crest of this tawny flood the stout 
timber raft was borne and whirled like an autumn 
leaf. A few of the working gang managed to reach 
it and save themselves, but others were swept 
away like thistle-down. 

The boys thus rudely awakened from a sound 
sleep sprang up with frightened questionings, 
while Solon sank to his knees, paralyzed with ter- 
ror. Nanita stood guard over her puppy, while 
Bim, with a single bark of defiance, leaped to his 
master’s side and looked into his face for orders. 

“ Steady, boys ! Steady !” shouted Billy Brack- 
ett, as coolly as though nothing unusual were hap- 
pening. “ No, not outside. Keep that door closed. 
It is safer in here. We can do nothing but wait 
patiently until the raft fetches up against some- 
thing solid or grounds. Hear the waves boiling 


S2Jf. Baftmates : 

over the deck? There’s a big chance of being 
swept off and dashed to bits out there.” 

For five minutes the raft was hurled forward 
and tossed with sickening plunges, as though in a 
heavy seaway, until its occupants were nearly pros- 
trated with nausea. Then came a crash and a shock 
that piled them in headlong confusion on one side 
of the room. There was a grinding and groaning 
of timbers. One side of the raft was lifted, and the 
other forced down, until the floor of the “ shanty” 
sloped steeply. With a single impulse all hands 
rushed to the door and into the open air. 

The raft seemed to be stranded at the base of a 
rocky cliff that towered directly above it to an 
unknown height. Against it the mad waters were 
dashing savagely. Beneath their feet the stout 
timbers quivered with such uneasy movements 
that it seemed as though the end of the Venture 
had come, and that a few more seconds or minutes 
must witness its total destruction. Still they clung 
to it and to each other, for they had no other ref- 
uge, and in the absolute darkness surrounding them 
it would have been worse than folly to seek one. 

After a while the first rush of waters passed, and 
they settled into a strong smooth flow like that 
of the great river from which they came. The 
uneasy movements of the raft ceased, and its 
shivering occupants again began to breath freely. 


A Story of the Great River. 825 

“ I guess it is all right, boys !” called out Billy 
Brackett. “ I believe we are stranded at the foot 
of the bagasse - burner ; but the old craft has evi- 
dently made up its mind to hold together for a 
while longer, at any rate. So I move that we 
crawl into the ‘shanty’ again. It’s a good deal 
warmer and more comfortable in there than it is 
out here.” 

So, very cautiously, to prevent themselves from 
slipping off the steeply-sloping deck, our raftmates 
worked their way back into the little house that 
had for so long been their home. They found the 
lower side of the floor about two feet under water. 

All hands were greatly depressed by the ca- 
lamity that had overtaken them. Mr. Manton, 
Worth, Sumner, and old Solon grieved over the 
ruin of Moss Bank. Glen and Binney feared for 
the safety of General Elting’s valuable instru- 
ments. Billy Brackett wondered if Major Cas- 
par, or any one else, would ever again have confi- 
dence in him as the leader of an expedition, while 
Winn, who had never ceased to reproach himself 
for the manner in which the voyage of the Vent- 
ure had been begun, was now filled with dismay 
at its disastrous termination. 

He, as well as the others, realized that the raft 
was a fixture in its present position, that it would 
never again float on the bosom of the great river, 


326 Raftmates : 

and that all dreams of selling it in New Orleans 
must now be abandoned. He knew bow greatly 
bis father was in need of the money he bad hoped 
to receive from it. He knew what a blow the 
loss of the wheat had been. Now the raft was 
lost as well. As the unhappy boy’s thoughts 
travelled back over the incidents of the trip, and 
he remembered that but for him the wheat would 
not have been lost, and but for him the raft would 
probably have been sold in St. Louis, his self-accu- 
sations found their way to his eyes, and trickled 
slowly down his cheeks in the shape of hot tears. 
The others could not see them in the darkness, 
and he would not have cared much if they could. 

But Billy Brackett was not giving way to his 
grief. There was too much to be done for that. 
He was trying to set up the overturned stove, 
and make things more comfortable. At the same 
time his cheery tones were raising the low spirits 
of his companions, and causing them to take a 
brighter view of the situation. 

The young engineer, with Glen and Solon to 
aid him, worked in darkness, for the lamp had 
rolled from the table when the raft struck the 
stone tower, and been extinguished in the water 
that flooded part of the “ shanty.” In spite of 
this drawback, they finally succeeded in getting 
the stove into position. Then they began to feel 


327 


A Story of the Great River. 

for fuel with which to make a fire. Everything 
was wet. Some one proposed breaking up a chair, 
but Billy Brackett exclaimed, 

“ Hold on ! I have thought of something 
better.” 

With this he caught hold of one of the thin 
boards used by the “ river - traders ” to ceil the 
room, and, with a powerful wrench, tore it off. This 
particular board happened to be near where Winn 
was sitting on the floor, so filled with his own sad 
thoughts that he paid but slight attention to what 
was going on about him. As the board was torn 
from its place several soft objects fell near him, 
and one of them struck his hand. It seemed to 
be paper, and when Billy Brackett sung out for 
some paper with which to start the fire, Winn said, 
“ Here’s a wad that’s dry,” and tossed the package 
in the direction of the stove. The young engi- 
neer slipped it under the wood, struck a match, and 
lighted it. The next instant he uttered a startled 
exclamation, snatched the package from the stove, 
and beat out the flame that was rapidly eating 
into it. 

“ What is the matter ?” asked Winn. 

“ Matter ?” returned Billy Brackett. “ Oh, noth- 
ing at all ; only I can’t quite afford to warm my- 
self at fires fed with bank-bills. Hot just yet. I 
wouldn’t hesitate to dissolve all my spare pearls in 


328 Raftmates : 

vinegar, if I felt an inclination for that kind oi v 
drink, but I must draw a line at greenback fuel. 
Where did you get them ? Whose are they ? 
And why in the name of poverty do you want 
them burned up? Has your wealth become a 
burden to you ?” 

“Are they really bills?” asked Winn, incredu- 
lously. 

For answer Billy Brackett struck another 
match, and all saw that he indeed held a package 
of bank-notes with charred ends. The same light 
showed Winn to be surrounded by a number of 
similar packages. 

The expression of complete bewilderment that 
appeared on the boy’s face as he saw these was 
so ludicrous that, as the match went out, a shout 
of laughter rang through the “shanty.” 

“ As long as they are so plenty, I guess we 
might as well burn them, after all,” said Billy 
Brackett, quietly. With this he struck another 
match, relighted the little bundle of bills in his 
hand, and again thrust it into the stove. 

For a moment the others believed him to have 
lost his senses. Winn made a wild dash at the 
stove door, but Billy Brackett caught his arm. 

“ It’s all right, and I’m not half so big a fool as 
I may appear,” he said, laughing. “ Do you re- 
member our late friends the ‘ river-traders ?’ And 


329 


A Story of the Great River. 

that they were counterfeiters ? And that they oc- 
cupied this very ‘ shanty’ for several weeks ? And 
that, after losing it, they made desperate attempts 
to regain its possession ? And that we wondered 
why they had ceiled this room ; also, what had be- 
come of their stock in trade ?” 

To each of these questions Winn gave an affirm- 
ative answer. 

“Well,” continued Billy Brackett, “the mystery 
is a mystery no longer. They ceiled this room to 
provide a safe and very ingenious hiding-place for 
their goods ; they wished to regain possession of 
the raft, that they might recover them. They 
failed, and so lost them. Now, by the merest acci- 
dent, we have found them.” 

“ Do you mean — ” began Winn, slowly. 

“I mean,” said Billy Bracket, “that while we 
are apparently possessed of abundant wealth, it is 
but the shadow of the substance. In other words, 
every one of those bills is a counterfeit, and the 
sooner they are destroyed the better. 

In spite of this disappointing announcement, the 
desire of the raftmates to discover the full extent 
of the “ river-traders’ ” secret hoard was so great 
that, having found a candle, they proceeded by its 
light to tear off the whole of the interior sheathing 
of the room. They found a quantity of the counter- 
feit money, which Billy Brackett, sustained by Mr. 


880 Raftmates : 

Manton, insisted upon burning then and there. 
They also found, carefully hidden by itself, a pack- 
age containing exactly one hundred genuine one- 
hundred-dollar bills. 

“ Enough,” said Billy Brackett, quietly, “ to re- 
fund the hundred they got from Glen and Binney, 
to repay Major Caspar for the wheat they dumped 
overboard, and to make good the loss of the What- 
not , , which so nearly broke the heart of our brave 
old friend Cap’n Cod.” 

The justice of this disposition of the money was 
so evident that not a single dissenting voice was 
raised among those who had found it, for they all 
knew that an effort to trace it to its rightful own- 
ers would not only be fruitless, but would cost 
more than the entire amount. 

The knowledge that his father was thus to be 
recompensed for the loss of which he had been the 
direct cause so raised Winn Caspar’s spirits that 
when daylight came, although their situation re- 
mained unchanged, he felt himself to be one of 
the very happiest boys in all Louisiana. 

The coming of daylight, while gladly hailed by 
the occupants of the wrecked raft, also disclosed 
the extent of the devastation caused by the flood. 
As they had surmised, the Venture was stranded at 
the foot of the huge stone bagasse-burner. The 
mill near by was partly demolished. The great 


SSI 


A Story of the Great River. 

house, standing amid its clumps of shrubbery and 
stately trees, a quarter of a mile away, was sur- 
rounded by water that rose nearly to the top of 
the stone piers by which it was supported. The 
quarters and other out-buildings had disappeared. 
Even at that distance they could see a throng of 
refugees on the verandas and at the windows of 
the great house. 

“ Unless speedy relief comes they will starve,” 
6aid Mr. Manton, anxiously, “ for our provisions 
had nearly run out yesterday.” 

“We are in about the same fix,” said Billy 
Brackett, who had been in earnest consultation 
with Solon. “I didn’t realize until this minute 
that we had given away nearly the whole of our 
own supply. Now I find that the few things we 
had left are under water, and most of them are 
spoiled.” 

At this announcement every one suddenly dis- 
covered that he was intensely hungry ; while Bim, 
seated on his haunches and waving his fore-paws, 
began to “ speak ” vigorously for his breakfast. 


CHAPTER XL. 


A MEETING OF MATES. 

With starvation staring our raftmates in the 
face, the problem of how they were to escape 
from their present predicament became a most 
important one. The first suggestion was that 
they construct a small and easily managed raft 
from a portion of the material contained in the 
Venture. They foresaw that it would be impos- 
sible for them to propel even this against the 
swift current and reach the river, where they 
might procure relief from some passing boat. 
Still, even to drift with the current, or at the best 
to work their way diagonally across it, with the 
hope of reaching some source of food supply, 
seemed better than to remain where they were, 
and accordingly they began to collect material for 
a raft. 

They had hardly started at this when Worth 
called out that he saw a canoe lodged in a clump 
of shrubbery. 

They all looked where he pointed, and all saw 
it. Although it was not more than a hundred 


Raftmates : A Story of the Great River . 833 

yards from them, the full force of the current 
must be encountered for the entire distance be- 
fore one could reach it. 

All were agreed that they must obtain it, if pos- 
sible, and that their very lives might depend upon 
getting that canoe. First Billy Brackett threw 
off his clothing, and plunging into the chill waters, 
attempted to swim to it. lie had not covered 
half the distance before he was compelled to turn 
back utterly exhausted. Then Glen Elting and 
Sumner undertook the task together, but splen- 
did swimmers as they were, they could no more 
stem that resistless flood than they could have 
flown to the canoe. 

As they were dejectedly resuming their clothing 
in the “ shanty ” they were startled by a shout 
from outside. Winn Caspar had solved the prob- 
lem. While the others were watching the fruit- 
less struggles of Glen and Sumner from one side 
of the raft he had slipped overboard from the 
other, and swam diagonally across the current to a 
hedge of oleanders, the tops of which were still 
above water. This hedge extended to the river, 
and passed within fifty yards of the shrubbery in 
which the canoe was caught. 

When Winn reached the oleanders he was con- 
siderably below the raft, and of course nearly 
twice as far from the canoe as when he started. 


334 Eaftmates : 

He had anticipated this, however, and now began 
to work his way back against the current by pull- 
ing, himself from one bush to another. When he 
reached a point abreast the raft the others saw 
him and shouted. He only waved his hand in 
reply and kept on, while they watched him with 
eager interest. As he gained a position opposite 
the canoe they shouted again, but still he kept on, 
until he was nearly a hundred yards above it. 

Then, after a long rest, he left the friendly 
oleanders, and struck out with brave strokes for 
the coveted object. He was now again swimming 
diagonally across the current, and knew that even 
should he miss the canoe, he would be borne down 
to the raft. But he did not miss it. He had 
calculated too well for that ; and when he again 
reached the raft, he brought the Psyche with him. 

He was chilled to the bone, numb, and sick with 
exhaustion ; but for such a royal cheer as greeted 
him, and the praises that his companions showered 
upon him, he would have dared and suffered twice 
as much. At the same moment, as if to encourage 
such brave deeds, the sun shone out warm and 
bright, transforming the whole character of the 
scene with its cheery warmth. 

Sumner Kankin was ready, and with a light 
heart he stepped into his beloved craft. Then, 
with vigorous strokes of his double-bladed paddle, 


§35 


A Story of the Great River. 

he shot away towards the river, where he was to 
remain until he could persuade a boat of some 
kind to come to the relief of his fellow-sufferers. 

In spite of the sunlight and their hopes of rescue, 
the long hours passed slowly aboard the Venture. 
There was little to do, and nothing to eat, though 
Solon did succeed in making a pot of coffee, which 
they drank without sugar or milk. In one re- 
spect, however, it was the most successful day of 
the Venture's entire cruise ; for during those 
tedious hours Billy Brackett and Winn accom- 
plished the object for which it had been under- 
taken. They sold the raft. In gazing over his 
flooded plantation and planning for its future, 
Mr. Manton realized that with the subsidence of 
the waters he would have immediate use for a 
large quantity of lumber. 

“ Why not buy ours V ’ suggested Winn. 

“ Why not ?” answered Mr. Manton. 

Five minutes later the bargain was completed 
that transferred the ownership of the Venture , and 
crowned Major Caspar’s undertaking with success. 
It was such a satisfactory arrangement that they 
only wondered they had not thought of it before. 

“Here the lumber is, just where I want it, and 
not a cent of freight to pay,” said Mr. Manton. 

“ Now you and I can get back to Caspar’s Mill, 
and help your father out with that contract ; and 


386 Raftmates : 

it is high time we were there too,” said Billy 
Brackett to Winn. “ Hello ! What’s this ? The 
Psyche coming back again ? If it is, young Ran- 
kin must be having a fit, for he’s black in the 
face.” 

“It’s Quorum!” shouted Worth. “In the Cu- 
pid, too ! Of all things, that is the very last I 
should ever have expected to see !” 

Sure enough, it was the faithful negro progress- 
ing slowly and with such awkwardness that the 
anxious spectators expected to see him upset at 
each moment. Nevertheless, he finally succeeded 
in reaching the raft ; and as they hauled him aboard 
he gasped, with thankfulness, 

“ Dat de seckon time dish yer nigger ebber bin 
in one ob dem ar cooners, an’ him hope he be 
good an’ daid befo’ him ebber sperimentin’ wif um 
agen !” 

Quorum had come from the great house, where 
the Cupid was the sole craft to be had. It was 
only after hours of persuasion and semi-starvation 
that he had been induced by the other refugees to 
make the trip to the raft, which they had discov- 
ered soon after daylight. He described a pitiful 
state of affairs as existing among the hungry throng 
he had just left, and declared that another day with- 
out food would witness great suffering in the 
crowded house. 


337 


A Story of the Great River. 

Even as lie related his story, those gathered about 
him were startled by the shrill note of a steam- 
whistle coming from the direction of the river. 
Sumner had found relief, and was bringing it to 
them. 

During the hours that passed so slowly on the 
raft, the brave little Psyche had cruised here and 
there over the broad Mississippi sea, now hailing 
some boat that refused to stop, and then chasing 
another that it failed to overtake. Finally, late in 
the afternoon, Sumner discovered a trail of black 
smoke coming up-stream and towards him. As he 
anxiously watched it, trying to decide which way 
he should go to head it off, he discovered a 
white banner with a scarlet cross flying out cheer- 
ily just beneath the trail of smoke. Then he 
knew that help was at hand, and no matter what 
other boats might do, that one would stop at his 
signal. 

As it drew near, he was amazed to see that in- 
stead of a river steamer, such as he had expected, 
the red-cross boat was a fine sea-going yacht ; and 
as she came dashing towards him, her sharp stem 
cleaving the brown waters like a knife, her shining 
black hull, varnished houses, polished metal, and 
plate-glass flashing in the light of the setting sun, 
this sailor son of a sailor father thought her the 
most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She slowed 
33 


338 Raftmates : 

down at his signal, and in another minute he was 
alongside. 

A line was flung to him, and making it fast to 
the Psyche's painter, he clambered up a ladder 
that had been dropped from the gangway. As he 
reached the deck, a fine -looking young fellow, 
apparently but little older than himself, and wear- 
ing a natty yachting uniform, stepped forward to 
meet him. 

Sumner briefly explained his errand, and point- 
ing to the red -cross flag at the foremast -head, 
added that he believed aid might be expected from 
those who sailed under it. 

“ Indeed it may,” responded the other, heartily ; 
and our present business is to discover just such 
cases as you describe. Although the Merab is, as 
you see, a private yacht, in which we happened to 
put into New Orleans during a winter cruise to 
the southward, she is at present in the service of 
the Red Cross Society, of which I am a member, 
and devoted to the relief of sufferers by this awful 
flood. May I ask your name ? Mine is Coffin — 
Tristram Coffin ; though I am better known as 
Breeze McCloud, and that of my friend (here he 
turned to another young man, also in navy blue) 
is Mr. "Wolfe Brady.” 

Half an hour later the beautiful Merab lay at 
anchor as near the stranded raft as it was safe to 


A Story of the Great River. 889 

venture, and its occupants were being transferred 
to her hospitable deck by one of her boats. 
Another boat, laden with provisions, was on 
its way to the starving refugees in the great 
house. 

The young owner of the Merab insisted that 
all those who came from the raft should be his 
guests, at least for that night. 

The invitation was accepted as promptly and 
heartily as it had been given, and soon afterwards 
two very hungry but very merry parties sat down 
to bountiful dinners in two entirely distinct parts 
of the yacht. 

Along the mess-table of the galley — or the “ cam- 
boose,” as the yacht’s cook insisted upon calling it 
— were ranged three gentlemen of color, each of 
whom treated his companions with the greatest 
deference, though at the same time believing him- 
self to be just a little better posted in culinary 
matters than either of the others. 

“ Dish yer wha’ I calls a mighty scrumptious 
repas’,” exclaimed Solon, after a long silence de- 
voted to appeasing the pangs of his hunger. “ But 
fo’ de true ole-time cookin’ gib me de Moss Back 
kitchin befo’ de wah.” 

“ I specs dat ar’ berry good in hits way,” re- 
marked Quorum ; “ same time I hain’t nebber eat 
nuffin kin compare wif de cookin’ er dem Semin- 


SJfO Raftmates : 

yole Injuns what libs in de Ebberglades. Dat’s 
whar I takin my lesson.” 

“ Sho, gen’l’muns ! ’pears to me lak you don’t 
nebber go on er deep-sea v’yge wliar you gets de 
genuwine joe-flogger, an’ de plum -duff, an’ sich 
like,” said Nimbus, the yacht’s cook. “ Ef you had, 
you wouldn’ talk.” 

In the luminous after -saloon the other party 
was seated at a table white with snowy damask, 
and gleaming with silver, which was at once the 
pride and care of old Mateo, the Portuguese stew- 
ard. 

It was a party so overflowing with merriment 
and laughter, jokes and stories, that from one end 
of the table the young owner of the yacht was 
moved to call to his friend at the other, 

“I say, Wolfe, this reminds me of the mess 
aboard the old Fish Hawk , when we were ‘ Dory- 
mates ’ together off Iceland.” 

“It reminds me,” said Glen Elting, “of the jolly 
mess of the Second Division, when Billy Brackett 
and Binney and I were ‘ Campmates ’ together in 
New Mexico.” 

Said Sumner Bankin, “It reminds me of the 
cabin mess of the Transit , when we went ‘ Ca- 
noemates ’ together, through the Everglades. Eh, 
Worth?” 

“ While I,” chimed in Winn Caspar, “ am re- 



REUNION OF MATES. 








A Story of the Great River . 8J+1 

minded of the happy mess-table of the good ship 
Venture, on which we ‘Raftmates’ have just floated 
for more than a thousand miles down the great 
river.” 

“ Gentlemen,” said Mr. Manton, rising, and hold- 
ing high a glass filled with amber - colored river- 
water, “ as I seem to have become a shipmate of 
Dorymates, Campmates, Canoemates, and Raft- 
mates, I am moved to propose a toast. It is, ‘ Long 
life and prosperity, health and happiness, now and 
forever, to all true mates.’ ” 


THE END. 







































































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